I had quite a bit of quiet time on this trip and even though I mostly enjoyed it, some days got a bit long. I had the pups with me but there's only so much you can say to a Chihuahua before you begin to repeat yourself--a lot. I went to Talladega a couple of times to go to Walmart and Walgreens. I ventured a little farther and went to Oxford to check out Target and Ross. The Ashland Piggly Wiggly and I became the best of friends. I attempted to bake a couple of loaves of bread from scratch and baked a fresh blackberry cobbler so I needed different ingredients often. So, go ahead! Ask me where the yeast packets and the Tide detergent are. I can take you right to them. Darn that orange clay!
One Saturday I went to an estate auction with a friend and learned a few things, like how some older Alabama ladies pronounce Talladega, "Talladegger," and that just because two elderly women are sisters doesn't mean Mary knows why Thelma is auctioning off her house and all her beloved belongings (Thelma has a real talent for decorating, you know)--even though she has been very sick lately.
At the auction in the mix of old items out in the garage, I discovered a small, brown metal bank shaped like a treasure chest. It was dirty and beat up but it had a skull and crossbones painted on one side of the top and and pirate head painted on the other, right above where the lock would have been had it not been broken. When I saw it I remembered my own pirate treasure chest bank just like it. Even though I never had more than a few pennies and some tiny treasures in it, I loved that bank. I don't know what ever happened to it, but, seeing this one, I suddenly felt deeply homesick for my childhood which in those few moments seemed a million billion years away.
Byron and I took one day and went out to Kylmuga Grist Mill and Covered Bridge which crosses the Talladega Creek. It's a working grist mill and the bridge was built in 1861. After crossing the bridge we walked through nature trails and identified bunches of trees and plants. It was a great refreshing time. A simple afternoon steeped in history and time together.
On the afternoons I spent at the house I often walked around outside just seeing what I could see. Even though I have put out my scraps from dinners and lunches, creature sightings are scarce but I do hear many birds. I've heard hawks screaming overhead and gobblers gobbling from quite some distance away. I wish I knew birdsong better because there are some unique ones really close by that sing very loudly. If I whistle through my teeth I can sometimes get them to answer me, or warn me to stay away! I'm not sure which. Once in a while I see wings' shadows on the grass and I know when I look up, I'll see a buzzard circling somewhere over my head. I watch squirrels stealing the stale bread I throw out for them, but they are really fast and don't hang around long like the ones in my yard in Florida.
I walk around the yard and my eyes scan the woods behind the house and the path in front of me. At first it doesn't seem like there's anything of consequence to find but I keep walking anyway. Right there on the orange clay bank in back of the garage is a pretty group of yellow wildflowers out in the hot Alabama sun smiling at me as though they are just waiting for a vase of cool water on my kitchen table! As I walk toward the upward path and the wild blueberry bush to check on the berries' ripening, I look down and see a million sparkles in the deep orange. Clay County, Alabama is mineral rich and even had a gold rush in the 1800s. Pyrite, fool's gold, is abundant and shimmery golden flakes glitter everywhere as I walk. It's like walking on a million tiny stars.
I see several piles of bunny poo in the parking area of our yard, some old, some new. Little Bunny Foo Foo comes every night and leaves his small markers. "Bunny was here." I don't mind because his sign let's me know that just because I don't see something happening doesn't mean nothing is happening.
My flowers are in a pretty glass of water on the table. My pups have pottied for the hundredth time today. Supper's done and Byron's watching a little television before bed. I fix a glass of iced tea and head outside with the phone to call my daughter or my aunt. It's dusk and as I connect with those I love back at home, I watch the bats come out to eat mosquitoes. They have a job to do and I get to watch them do it. At first there's only one but she's soon joined by a group of 3 more. They swoop and dive and eat to their heart's content. I've read that each bat eats about 10,000 bugs in a night. Go, bats, go!
Nope, it wasn't exactly the trip I'd pictured but it was good. How boring would life be if all we got was what we imagined? I want to leave the creativity of my days up to the Creator and let Him help me see His hand, His beauty, in even the small things.
Father, I appreciate your beauty and your creativity. Show them to me, please.
Suz
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