Mama’s Backyard

Sitting at my Mama's kitchen table, I look out through her large kitchen window into the backyard. Hanging directly in the middle is her simple oblong, red hummingbird feeder. Radiating outward from there I see the air conditioner surrounded by shrubbery and the edge of the children's play area off to the left. Mama has those special pebbles you're supposed to use underneath swings and slides for children. The wood has long since stained and worn with sun and rain. The back yard stretches out towards the pecan grove with its own pecan trees within our fencing. There's a small shed in the back with a room for Mr. Glenn and then a covered area for the lawn mower and other yard equipment. The pecan grove beyond that is deep and bleeds into the neighbor's pecan grove even further. To the right I can barely make out the ponds, but the pond house is visible. It must be twenty years old by now - having been home to so many in transitory states. Finally, back in the center is Mama's flat stone patio with roses and other flowers framing its edges. The wiry furniture has colorful blue and pink cushions arranged neatly, and the side tables have plants of their own sitting atop them.

Looking out at the yard, I remember all of the different ways it used to look - with our old swing set beyond the den door; the chicken coop where the shed now stands; even the half finished playhouse left standing for years after Daddy died. It warms my heart thinking about all the basketball court sized gardens we used to have and how climbed just about every tree in that yard. A sense of peace comes over me remembering how that back yard was where I found my sanctuary growing up. Even better is what a wonderful place for adventure and imagination it still is for the next generation to enjoy, and reminiscing about that yard helps remind me to pay attention for all the everyday sources of solace and inspiration present in my life today.