Every time I go for a visit to my parent’s house I take pictures. This is not all that unusual except that every time I go I take pictures of the same things. I can not have enough pictures looking out into the pasture, looking out at the old barns.
Three tired barns.
Several of them are full of dry firewood, split and stacked there by my father’s hands. It is hard to imagine that it has been almost a year since he died.
Dexter being stealth by one of the many wood piles.
I take pictures of the trees. I remember being a young girl sitting bareback on my horse named Harvey. I would jump up upon his back with no saddle or bridle, no reins to tell him where I wanted him to go. He would respond to the gentle pressure from my legs or a whisper of a word from my mouth as I lay across his back, my arms wrapping his neck in a loving hug. Or more often than not, he would choose to completely ignore me and eat grass or try to gently scrape me off his back by walking under the low hanging branches. That rascal Harvey had personality in spades.
Many a low hanging branch for Harvey to choose.
I take pictures of the well house and rain barrels, fence posts and mushrooms. I capture hawks and bald eagles as they fly overhead knowing full well that those birds fly far beyond the capabilities of my little point and shoot camera.
The old well house.
I can not get enough of the land and the sky surrounding my childhood home.
A view from just up the road.
And, of course I take pictures of the boys walking the land that I once walked as a child and return to as an adult.
The boys with “wheat” in their mouths pretending to be farmers. We checked the pretend salt licks and tended to our pretend cows.
I love that I can still visit the location where my childhood memories continue to linger.
Cody and Carter swinging from the old apple tree I used to climb in my childhood backyard.
I love that my children are forming some of their own childhood memories where mine once were created.
Shoes On The Wrong Feet 
That’s absolutely lovely. I can understand what it would mean to you to be able to return to your childhood home like that, and I imagine it must feel very special indeed that your own children get to relish the same place. Unfortunately, I can no longer return to my childhood home, nor my Grandparents home, which went last year. I’d spent a lot of time there growing up so found it hard saying goodbye to the place. So I feel really pleased for you that you still get to enjoy such an opportunity. 🙂
I would imagine it very hard to say goodbye to such places. I am lucky to have my childhood home to go back to and visit and I hope it can stay in the family. There is such a sense of calm and groundedness to that place, time slows down and I find myself becoming reflective. The boys love stomping around the pasture and peeking into the old barns, and of course my mom loves when we all come up to visit.
With all that space and those different buildings it must be a truly magical place for little boys with lively imaginations to invent games and stories. It all sounds lovely. 🙂
ah it sounds like you had a magical childhood and how beautiful that you boys are getting a slice too
It was a bit magical although at the time I don’t think I realized how special of a time and space it really was. I love being able to share some of that with my boys.
The pictures are great.
It’s funny how our childhood homes can make us nostalgic.
Oh, I get all soft and dreamy eyed when I visit home. My childhood was not perfect, whose truly was, but when I am there it is the good memories that flow over me.
I really get wierdly nostalgic when I am in back in my old area (my mom sold the house years ago). Everything reminds me of something.
It’s wonderful that you still have your childhood home to return to and offer your boys a chance to build some memories of their own. Magical..
I am so lucky to have this to share with Husband and my boys. And of course my mom loves when we visit. She bakes and cooks as though we are going to stay for weeks instead of just days. I love being able to show the boys the room I had growing up and the special trees I liked to climb and how to best decorate a barbed wire fence with snowberries, oregon berries, and green shiny leaves. 🙂
It sounds blissful!
This is so great!
Thank you. I enjoy sharing memory lane with you.
Special places that hold memories for us are also special for our children… they may not know it now, but they will when they’re grown up and look back on memories of their very own. How wonderful that the place that holds so many memories for you will also be that to your boys.
You put it so well, for I don’t think the boys truly understand how special the house and land is to me. I think they have a hard enough time wrapping their brains around the fact that I used to be a child (how old I must seem to them) much less the fact that that house was the house I grew up in. They love visiting Grandma and Grandpa’s house, picking apples in the orchard, playing farmer in the pasture, and making secret houses in the low hanging boughs of the cedar trees in the front yard.
Thank you for stopping by and taking the time to leave a comment!
It’s so lovely that you can do this!
It really is! I think I take so many pictures because I don’t want to ever lose it.
This is how I feel about my grandparents house up at Hood Canal/Driftwood Key. It hasn’t been theirs for a long time but someday I will take my kiddos up there to share with them.
It is such a special thing to have these places that we can share with our children. I love passing on bits and pieces of my childhood memories while they make their own.
Your parents have created an oasis! How cool that your boys play on the same tree…
It is a wonderful place to go back to and be able to share with the boys.