A couple of things along the way got me to thinking. One was an isolated shade tree in the middle of a freshly plowed field.
It got me to thinking about how it got there, who planted it, how old was it, how many men stopped under it for their noon meal, how many wives or girlfriends met their men there for a picnic or to bring them fresh cold water. I imagined a story about the many generations of men and women who worked this land. I thought of the first man who cleared the land and planted the first crop. With that crop, a sapling grew. Every time he passed it he told himself to cut it down before it got bigger. But, instead, he let it grow. Now, seventy five years later, his great great grandson is working in the same field in the middle of a very hot summer. The sun is beating down with barely a breath of breeze. Every step brings a puff of dust from underfoot. On towards noon he would be soaking wet with sweat and dusty from head to toe. As he reaches for the lukewarm water jug in the tractor he glaces towards the old shade tree and there she is; his wife of many years, standing under the tree with a fresh jug of iced cold water. It was as if she read his mind and knew he needed a break. As he walked towards her, he sensed he wasn't alone. Alongside him were three other men walking towards their wives. While he was kissing her and reaching for the water, the rest of the people faded away leaving only him and her.
The land around the tree looked to be freshly plowed, so I felt good in knowing that at least one more generation was enjoying the tree. But as I drove on by, I wondered how many more future generations the tree would provide shade for such loving acts.
On down the road, I saw another interesting sight.
I saw the flags first. The American and Texas flags were flapping in the wind and caught my attention from about a mile away.
It is still rainy, chilly and foggy here so no explorations today. There are a couple of things I came here to see and I hope the weather clears out of here tomorrow since that is my last day here. The slow moving cold front is supposed to pass on out into the gulf late tomorrow. We will see.
|My campsite here at Matagorda|