Old Country Roads

OK Holly, here goes.

I grew up in a small town in southwest Virginia. And when I say small, I'm talking no stoplights in the town. Only one gas station and one fast food joint. Since I've grown up, there are a few more restaurants and local businesses, but still no stoplights. So I'm talking SMALL town. My parents live outside the town down a long dirt road. Beyond state maintenance. So when it snows, Dad gets out the tractor so we can get out of the house. When we get potholes in the road the neighbor goes and buys some gravel to fill the hole. Way out in the boonies. Moving there at the age of 10 after growing up in a neighborhood was horrible. They only kid to play with...my brother. Terrible. But I think it ended up working out quite well. I have awesome memories of playing in the leaves with Brad, the older brother, and our black lab Black Jack. Memories of riding the four-wheeler thru the woods to a clearing where we could see all the mountains. But I think the best memory is walking down the dirt road with my Mom. Spring and summer meant longer days. Days when there was still sunlight after dinner was cooked and the dishes were done. So after the dishes me and my Mom would take walks down the road. It was only about a mile long, but it was beautiful. We would walk and talk about school or work in her case. And listen to the birds sing and watch out for deer and rabbits eating their dinner. At the end of the road it was clear, no trees in the way, and we could watch the sun set behind the mountains. The day was over and it was time to head back home and get ready for the next day. When we would walk down the road again.

The next memory of my country roads is perhaps the best one. When I was young, under 10, I had an uncle who owned a large amount of land on a creek. My grandparents would set up camp there for several weeks during the summer. After several years, it would end up with all the grandkids there and some local families too. So, my Papa built this campgroup up. He made 2 huge picnic tables, set up a nice little cooking area for my Nana, built a shower and even an outhouse. So it was camping on another level. But we would go and stay with Nana and Papa for a time during the summer. It wasn't too far from my house, but it felt like it was. The campground was on my uncle's land maybe 3 miles from the house. And of course, it was down an old dirt road. As kids we would walk up the road and go to the barn to see the horses or walk to the house just see what was going on. We would play in the spring, look for arrow heads or my favorite was lay in the hammock with my Papa. We spent several summers at camp. Then, due to divorce, our family didn't own the land anymore and we never went back to "the creek."

Those are my memories of my old country roads. I was telling a friend the other day, what a shame my kids won't get to experience that. Maybe parts if my parents still live in the same house. I guess each generation makes its own memories. But I just feel like things are heading for a change and memories won't be as wholesome as they once were. I'm not sure kids today or my future kids could appreciate spending weeks away from TV, cell phones and computers. I'm not sure if they would find the meaning in listening to birds sing and watching deer eat their dinner. But times change and so must we. I, however, wouldn't change my memories for the world.