Growth on the Land - Part Two
Posted: Saturday, July 24, 2010
by Richard Radtke
http://www.cottagebythelane.com
"The wind blows because it is the wind. It moves across the land, sometimes as a gentle breeze, sometimes as a howling beast, It can, given time, move a high mountain, cut it down into a plain. Like a child at play it rearranges it, moves it from here to there. But in the end when it tires of its game, it moves on, and the land remains"
From the poem "Elements"
When all was said, and much was, there was still more that was left unsaid, but finally the little group of family and friends began to move down the hill, first one, then another, a husband and wife, a good friend, each having said their goodbye. Finally only one remained.
Samuel stood looking down at the fresh turned earth before him, the land that covered his father and his mother, land they had loved and land he loved too. The oldest one, Samuel had always had a special bond with his dad, a bond he still felt, and knew he always would. He finally turned and looked out to the east, from the height of the hill he could see the fields, how they rolled on reaching to the far horizon, here and there dotting the landscape another farm stood, more than when he was young. The land was different too, not as wild as it had been, there were more roads now, and the fields of grass that had once waved in a summer sun were no more. The fields now were of grain and hay. Man had made his mark on the land, and the land was becoming tamed.
He began to slowly walk away from the graves, down the hill to the homestead. He looked as he approached it, it had changed so much over the years. The old log house was still there as strong and solid as the day his father and mother had built it. Through the years it had grown, three rooms having been added on as the family grew. It was home, and even now from the chimney smoke curled up in the late afternoon sky, lazily rising until the wind caught it and it was gone. As he approached it he slowed and stopped, not wanting to go inside, not wanting to hear the condolences, not wanting to be there, but he knew it would do no good, it was expected. So even though he wanted nothing more than to be alone and cry, he knew he had to be strong, and he went up the step and went in
A rooster crowed, welcoming the sun. Smoke still curled from the chimney of the log house, within it Samuel sat at the table drinking steaming coffee from a cup, Aaron his younger brother sat across from him. Aaron's wife, Agatha was at the stove, and their children were readying for school, life does not stop, its put on hold now and again, but it must move forward. There were chores to do on the farm, animals to be fed, milked, and moved. Grain to be brought in some stored, some sold. No one there went forth into the day willingly, their hearts hung a bit heavy in their chests, but time to sit back and grieve was not a luxury they could afford to have then. It was also true that time would eventually pass and the grief would not be so deep, so close to their skin, it would eventually become something else, a memory brought fourth when a summer wind would blow, a smile at a thought of something they said. Perhaps just a glimpse of a shadow that once was.
Sam had never married, working with his father long days in the fields it had just not seemed to be that important. It was the land that he loved, the feeling of planting it, with the knowledge of the crop that was to come. The harvest, the result of the hard work put in on those days, that was what fulfilled him. True, there were days when he felt his life was missing something, when he thought how nice it would be to have a woman to love, children to raise, but time had passed him by and now he was to old to change. Grace the second born still lived faraway, in fact she had not come home for either of the funerals, but everyone understood, when your tied to the land, life is like that. Ada still with her husband and children just a short distance away, they were frequent visitors to the home place and Samuel, Aaron, Agatha and their children to theirs, but that was how it should be.
Aaron and Agatha had wed in 1889, he was 22 she was 21, it was a marriage based in love. They had known each other growing up, he had teased her at school, and she, like most girls do had ignored him. In the years that had past they had had 3 children, a daughter named Rose, who was born in the summer of 1890, and two boys, who spent their days doing as boys do, exploring, playing and generally teasing their sister. They were close as most brothers are, Seth was born in 1892 and Ted in 1895. Seth was a lot like his father in both manner and temperament, he grew tall, thin but wiry, his muscles held more power than most would believe. Ted's mannerism's were different, he was louder, and while not quite a rebel, he was the more free-spirited of them all. It was usually Ted who was in trouble, the one that was usually at the bottom of the pranks, and usually the leader of the group. As it was the land knew a new generation upon it, although in fact it did not know, did not care. A generation of man was nothing more than a flash for the land, hardly to be noticed.
That winter was like many in the past, winds that blew as snow fell covering the ground, There were days that the sun glowed only as a dull white disk in the a sullen gray sky. Beneath it all the land slept, waiting for the warmth of the sun, waiting for the rush of the melting snow. It was a time of renewal, like so many times before. The land was patient, it knew that soon the sun would warm it, wake it from its slumber. Awakened, the land would know the first twitches of life as seeds buried deep within it began to sprout, to move and turn their leaves to the warming sun. It would feel the cut of the steel plow as it had felt the slow movement of glaciers across it so long ago. It would know the feel of the falling rain, and feel the wind blow across it. It was part of the cycle, it was what was, and would be until such time as it changed again, and the land knew that in time change would again come
Change was coming, it was on the wind. Faraway from this place, the homeplace, nations moved, and men girded for war, as they had so many times before. Soon, the land would once again know the sounds of cannon shot, and the taste of blood that colored it a rusty brown, but for now that was something to come.
Here, this day, spring arrived upon the wind. Birds who once had flown south before the cold of the icy northern winds, returned upon the warm flowing winds from the south. The sun smiled down upon the land, and soon the last vestiges of the snow disappeared once more as the warming rays of the sun touched the land. As it dried the plow once more cut it, bending it to man's will. Seeds were planted, seeds that germinated their leaves spreading under the sun. The crop began and grew under skies that were sometimes a cloudless blue, or a heavy hanging gray.
In the place where the homeplace lay, the family knew it as that now, it was no longer the homestead, that generation was gone. The new generation that had stayed upon this land had known no other home and for them this was the homeplace, and for the generations to come it would always have that name. Just the thought of it brought fourth a feeling of warmth, and in some a longing to go back
It was this year that a new home was built across the creek from the original cabin, it was a two storied affair, with a porch that blossomed from the front overlooking the fields that lay on the other side of the graveled road the county had put in a few years back. Aaron, Agatha, and their children made it their home, and soon it had that lived in look, curtains hung in the windows, flower beds surrounded it, and a new lane led to it from the road. Over time the wild grasses that had grown there were gone and a lawn cut and fresh grew in their place.
Of the old place, Samuel stayed there, it was home for him, rustic, and in a way it fit him, he was comfortable there. The memories that he found in it were good ones and within its walls he was content to grow old there.
There came a day when the war in those far off lands touched home, the boys of this land took up their guns, and as the bands played the boys marched off to stop the Hun across the sea. In their ranks was Tom, but this was not a surprise to anyone that knew him, especially his family. The war, once only heard of in the names of far off places now touched their lives in a special way, but that story is another story, one that is a chapter of life that stands by itself, connected but yet not connected to this story. What Tom saw there, felt there are things no one in the family will ever know, letters were infrequent, and when they came they were usually short, but that was Tom. There was a time that a telegram came and with its arrival they learned that Tom would not be coming home. He had fallen, one of many who fell on the blood covered land in a place called St. Mihiel on a cold September morning in 1918. In that battle 84 men of the 168th Infantry fell, Tom was one of those. The war would go on for another few months and thousands more would fall. In the end, once great nations would fall because of it, and in time more wars would be fought because of that war, borders would change, but the land would remain, as it always had
Aaron grew older that day, In the field when they were working together Sam would quite often find him distracted looking faraway toward the horizon to the East. He became more quiet, less likely to laugh, not like he had been in the past. He put his heart into the land and would be out upon it till after the sun had set. In the years that followed he and Sam grew the farm, took advantage of the land, respected it, took care of it. Seth, too grew older and stepped up as a steward of the land, taught well by his father and his uncle. There would come a time when the seat in the tractor would be his own, and the land his kingdom.
Rose, the sister grew too, she became a teacher for many years, Eventually retiring from that life and marrying a worker in a large town. She and her husband visited the farm once in a great while, but generally communication was by letter, She was a seed from the tree, that once blown free found other rich land to grow in. Her children grew up in the city and did not understand the land. Their thoughts were not about it, but about other things they understood, although it must be said that every once in a while, perhaps after a newly fallen rain, or when upon a blowing wind they smelled the heavy scent of freshly cut grass, a thought of something lost tugged at their hearts...
Authors Note: This is the the second part of an ongoing story, part one is "The homestead".
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Top-level comments on this article: (4 total)You're so good at evocatively portraying the passage of time, Richard. This is another story that feels like a potential book to me...Well thank you, i appreciate that. By the by this is part two of "The Homestead" Part Three should be up soon, although Part Four may beat it up here, kinda bouncing around with this family and their lives.
Awesome... Now has to go back and read the previous posts. I look forward to this story continuing. You draw a person deep within the words and create the vivid pictures to see and feel the story not just read it.Thank you so much for sharing your gift
This reads like some of the historical fiction I have been reading lately. Good word pictures and wondering if you know any publishers?I am sorry to say I do not know any publishers or agents, I certainly wish I did. But I have to admit I have not submitted anything for quite a few years, maybe sometime I shall.I hear you my last published piece and last rejection notice came in the 1970s.... right now I delight in being online and having my pieces show up anywhere from University websites to churches etc.
Readers Club - enjoying this again - keep us posted as to the publishing progress!
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