Friday, April 15, 2016

Memories

Standing, stooping, wielding a hoe in the afternoon sun, you think. You could sing. The slow patter of rain in the evening sings a love song, no rebellion of rivulets tumbling across the tilled Earth.




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11 comments:

  1. shortybearApril 15, 2016 at 4:05 AM

    nice post

    ReplyDelete
  2. bettyApril 15, 2016 at 7:14 AM

    Always wonderful to have memories, life would be a bit dull without them.

    Betty

    ReplyDelete
  3. Pat HattApril 15, 2016 at 10:58 AM

    Memories sure help make life grand across the land

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ann BennettApril 16, 2016 at 11:11 AM

      I guess that is why so many people are writing their memoirs. No one else may want to listen but it is nice to express them. lol

      Delete
  4. bookwormApril 15, 2016 at 1:42 PM

    Beautiful memories. The sorghum (it is sorghum?)reminds me of years spent out where farmers grew the plant. But it's been so many years now and all I have are my memories. Alana ramblinwitham.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ann BennettApril 16, 2016 at 10:15 AM

      It is sorghum. I always think of my grandmother when there is a soft rain. She always appreciated how it soaked the plants.

      Delete
  5. diedre KnightApril 15, 2016 at 3:53 PM

    Lovely, Anne. The pictures are nice too;-)

    ReplyDelete
  6. AnonymousApril 17, 2016 at 11:18 PM

    Yeah, it's just like that. Annie from ~McGuffy's Reader~

    ReplyDelete

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