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I sit on my porch in the mornings. It’s warmer now. Warm enough to wear a sweater, drink coffee, and look at the pink sky creeping over the hills. There are a thousand birds! Mixed in the chorus of birdsong, I hear the river. It’s loud, rushing. There’s been rain this week. The river is so loud! The first day, I said, “How can I be hearing traffic? There is no traffic out here! Where is that noise coming from?” It sounds like an interstate! Then I realized it was the river.
Sometimes I can hear the steady pump-pump-pump of an oil rig beyond our farm. It doesn’t run all the time, just sporadically. My great-grandfather, on his farm across the river, used to say, “That is the sound of money.” Back in the day, this area was a center of gas and oil drilling. My great-grandfather made a lot of money off that pump-pump-pump sound. Not so many gas and oil pumps run around here today. Decades ago, the gas and oil companies decided they could drill other places, where they didn’t have to go as deep, for cheaper, and they went away. But times have changed, and they’re coming back. And my great–grandfather’s farm? My family still owns the mineral rights. When I hear the pump run, I say, “That’s the sound of money,” because a share of those mineral rights will come to me in time. And by then, maybe this area will be the center of gas and oil production it once was. I will do as my ancestors did, poor mountain folk who’d never seen so much money in their lives, and throw my clothes away to buy new every week because I have so much money, I don’t need to do wash. (Okay, I won’t do that, but they did!) And so I sit on my porch and fantasize about my future riches.
Hey, my chances are better at that than winning the lottery. (Which I didn’t win. Again. What is up with that?)
Then I look down at that loud river rushing between my farm and my great-grandfather’s and I know I am rich already. Just because I am here. Just because this is my morning.
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BTW, that looks like moss to me!
Hey, I saw someone’s crocuses coming up yesterday, while walking home. I must go by with my camera in hand this morning. :smile:
-Kim
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This past fall/winter we put a deck on this old farm house…love to sit and listen to the rooster crow while watching the sun come up.
I’ve been told if I want to win the lottery I must buy a ticket…hmmm what a concept
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What a beautiful view you have for your morning coffee on the porch Suzanne.
It’s getting so nice and green there! I see your trees are budding. Ahhhh. . . spring. I hope it gets here soon.
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Enjoy your porch and your coffee!
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Have a great weekend!
Patricia
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Blessings from Ohio…
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When are you getting your
’s?
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Shelley
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A porch is a necessity of country life. I am glad you came home to West Virginia and can appreciate living here. Not all do–it’s not an easy place to live, but it is completely rewarding.
We went to the FFA farm auction today. What a blast! I’ll be posting photos of the auction and what we bought tomorrow on my blog. That auction is one more sure sign that spring is on the way.
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What a wonderful spot you have, the river, the sunrise, and the porch. Absolutly Excellent!
Sububan Chickens: I live in a small community(city)just 12 minutes from downtown San Diego and over the weekend I discovered that there is a family producing free range eggs from their backyard flock. I have purchased a dozen eggs and cannot wait to try them for breakfast tomorrow. In fact, it has made me think – well if she can do it in her yard, what about mine???? No chickens in the road for me though – the speed limit is 40mph on the street in front of my home!
On a final note, as a boy scout leader, I have camped in the Boy Scout camp in Balboa Park (basically downtown San Diego) and it IS next to a freeway – I often fell asleep there telling myself that the freway noise was a rushing river LOL Suburban Chickens indeed! :flying:
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BW