Recollections of an Old Farm in the USA

 

I remember once, while watching Elizabeth Gaskell’s North and South, how much Miss Margaret Hale loved her home, Helston. “It’s the best place on earth,” she says to Henry. I can say the same about my childhood home, where I grew up to my teenage years. It was not the sort of exquisite, well-built American home but rather a chunk of an old 40 acre vineyard. It was a rare treasure to me and probably more to my grandpa. Once he bought it, he cleared it of all the shriveled, twisted grape trees and branches and piled them next to the chicken coop. The top of it was as high as our storage barn. My cousins and I always jumped on the branches and beat each other to the top or sometimes outran each other from the pile when we heard rats squeaking underneath.

One afternoon, we were busy playing on the side of the long dirt road as my mom was getting ready to water her long bean field.

I tapped my cousin on the shoulder. “Wanna climb up and get some?” I pointed to the almond trees next to us.

“But they’re not ready…”she said, her face wringing in disgust.

“Come on!” I ran ahead and she obediently followed. We climbed up like monkeys and picked off a few. The almonds were still green and fury on the outside but I was still eager to try them. Turns out, unripe almonds weren’t so bad. It was hard to dig the seed out, but it was richer and fatter than the ripe ones.

My mom called us towards her so we climbed back down.

“Come here,” she said softly. “Do you want to swim?”

My cousin and I looked at each other in confusion.

“Swim where?”

“Here!” She grinned brilliantly and pointed to the small water canals.

“OK!”

We never swam in the plantation canals before so we took advantage of our first and last chance. When she opened up all the small, concrete pumps and water gushed out, we jumped in. It was perfect, even though the water was just to our knees. I loved squishing the mud underneath my feet and touching the cold water.
The only other real adventure we had was discovering a secret place. We usually don’t go all the way to the end of the long dirt road because it’s too far and sometimes creepy, but one time, we walked to the far east side. Out there was nothing but cord grass and cattails. Beyond that were miles of orange trees. We often heard noises from the big, dark trees and thought there were wild beasts hiding and looking at us.
At the very corner of the end of the road was an old, wooden shed. A large tree stood over it. Next to the tree was a tiny bathroom, like Shrek’s. It was the perfect hideout.

“Woooh…look at that,” I whispered.

It was the first time we’ve discovered something like it.

“Let’s go check it out.”

“No way, it’s too creepy! I’m scared,” my cousin said next to me.

She was right. The shed looked deadly ancient and haunted and the overcast from the tree made it even more terrifying. That meant adventure.
I slowly tiptoed towards the shed.

“Wait! Wait for me!” She crawled nervously behind me.

When I reached the door, I quietly pulled it open. It gave a loud, shrill cry. I expected something to suddenly pop out and scare my pants off of me, but I only found an old table, some chairs and a few pans. After we calmed down a bit, we explored around and finally decided to make it our shed. It became our secret place ever since.
These are only some of the memorable moments on that farm. Everyday there were places waiting to be explored and adventures waiting for us. It was the best place to grow up. To this day, I dream of returning to it. I want to feel the crisp air blow from the west, run down the long dirt road and watch the blossoms fall slowly from the almond trees and drink the juice of the ripened sugar canes. I want to swing from the high branches and fall into a massive pile of October leaves. I want to see the glorious sunrise explode above the thick orange trees and see the sunset on the eastern mountains nearby. What I want is to be a kid again. To play with imagination and possibilities. To pretend as if I owned the whole world and had nothing to think about but the new adventures waiting for me. I want to outplay the stress of an adult life. How little, then, did I know the dreariness of reality.

About the author: My name is Coua Lee and I currently reside in Minnesota. I am an undergraduate student at the University of Minnesota and will be earning my bachelor’s degree in English soon. Aside from my passion for writing and reading, I love art, music and sports. I find myself most comfortable outdoors and around my friends and family.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Independence Travel Writing competition and tell your story.

Independence

We hope you enjoyed this entry in the We Said Go Travel Independence Writing Contest. Please visit this page to learn more and participate. Thank you for reading the article and please leave a comment below.

One response to “Recollections of an Old Farm in the USA

  1. Coua,

    Elizabeth Gaskell’s North and South is my favorite movie :). I really like your story of the past and I am looking forward to more of your stories in the near future.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

We Said Go Travel