There’s a song by Miranda Lambert that I love called “The House That Built Me.” From the moment I heard the words, I related to the song. I have a house like that from my youth and this weekend I went back to visit it.
Not much has changed about that street I grew up on. Its kind of surreal to visit the past like that. I walked alone on that street and tried to remember myself as a kid skipping around the neighborhood.
Once I got to the old house, I wondered if I could remember the path I used to walk to school. I used one of my cellphone apps to clock the distance. I was surprised to realize my mom let me walk 1/2 mile alone to my grade school. Times were different back then.
That house did build me. My love of nature came from that yard. I remember picking dandelions bouquets for my mom, digging up earthworms, and when it was really rainy, I found crayfish in the back yard.
I was a little disappointed that there was something missing; the huge silver maple trees that grew on the front lawn. There were 2 when I was growing up. Sometime before we moved out of the house one of the trees was cut down. I really hoped to see the other tree, but it too succumbed to the forces of suburban living.
Those trees meant a lot to me as a kid. I climbed them, talked to them, and even hugged them. Yes, I have always been a “tree hugger.”
This weekend, while I was on my journey back into time, I took lots of pictures of similar trees in the neighborhood. Fortunately, I took my walk early in the morning and no one called the police on the wacko who was taking pictures of trees. Well at least if they did call, no one stopped me. The journey this weekend was research. There’s a quilt in my head waiting to be born (maybe even a series), its called “I Remember The Tree.”