Thursday, August 6, 2009

The Field of Adventures!

That's me in front of my growing up home located in the isolated Upper Peninsula of Michigan. My mother always took photos of me between these two trees. I have a "two trees" picture for almost every year of growing up! In the background, across the street there is a field where I loved to go adventuring. I even wrote a poem about it a few years ago. It goes like this:

The Field

Adventuring, I cross the street to where my field awaits,
trimmed in yellow buttercups—no locks, no doors, no gates.
I make my way among brown nests, pink thistle, and grey rocks,
white-petaled dancing daisies, rust Indian tobacco stalks.

My hidden rock I hunt and find, familiarly fingering traces
of glacial pox and smooth cool stone, my haven, blessed of places.
Up scramble I upon this throne, look my vast country over,
survey the turf o'er which I reign, lands rich in purple clover.

Observe the Monarch butterflies, as, fluttering, they pass by,
sailing o'er my shimmering sea of wild wheat, quack, and rye.
Then, settling back, I dream of things like ice cream, pop, and stories
from books I'll read when I return from this grand world of glories.

White billowy clouds breeze overhead, scud 'cross the sapphire sky
my golden hours in the sun pass all to quickly by.
A meadow lark is nesting near—its sudden trilling song
reminds me I am trespassing and have been all along.

I know it's nearly time to leave, but I've saved the best for last—
the joy of rediscovering my precious berry patch.
Strawberries, tiny treasures. Rich and ripe and red.
My tin cup runneth over from the field with flowers wed.

(This post came from an idea received from my dear friend Doreen. Choose the fourth picture in the fourth folder where pictures are saved, post it, and tell a bit about it. What fun! Try it! You'll like it!)


  1. The poetry is fabulous...penned after my own heart.

    What steals my breathe away is the photo. I think I've shared this with you before but my parents just didn't take photographs of us kids when we were little. Consequently there is little to reminisce least from pictures. As a result I've become a picture-taking crazy woman ever since my two children were born. What I wouldn't give for even ONE picture like you've shared. I'm so thankful my children have what I did not. We have a few...and they are PRECIOUS to me...but not many.

    It all makes me smile. I can feel the love your mother carried in her heart for you...


  2. Very cute. Wonderful post today.

  3. My Husband's father lives in UP Michigan in a little placed called Newberry.

    That was a lovely poem!☺

    Thanks for the link, Doreen looks very interesting!

  4. Such a beautiful poem! Yo uhave a gift for words...
    The photo is a treasure...and I know it brings back sweet memories. Thank you for sharing this with us!

  5. Thanks for visiting me! I too wish I had more pictures of myself growing up. I'm a nut with the camera because of it. Sad thing is that since I'm the one with the camera there still aren't many pictures of me! lol Oh well.....

    What a sweet picture and a sweet poem! I'm sure that you Treasure it!

    God Bless!