|The Phoenix 18 x 24 pastels|
Years ago on one of our many trips to the South to visit my parents' relatives, we stayed with one of my father's aunts, living in Mississippi. The land was my father's family land, a sprawling bit of acreage used for farming and growing trees. The narrow road going up to the place will probably remain rough and grown over until one of 'us' decides to make something of the place.
My aunt "Callie" - not sure if that's her real name - lived in a two room home a distance from the spot where my father and his siblings were raised, and I had the impression the land was used by many family members over the years. The house was far from fancy; it was as basic as one would imagine. No electricity, no phone and no running water; if you needed to use the "facilities, there was a small outside "closet" with a door, if you know what I mean. And water? there was a large well in her front yard.
Thinking back on the place, that well comes to mind. Her home is long gone and amazingly, the last time I visited the land, my grandfather's smaller home was still standing. He also had a well in his front yard, though it has collapsed as well. But it was looking at this land through adult eyes that lead me to write this morning. Creeks run around the land, beside the spot where my grandfather's home stands and in other spots. Wells and creeks; water running beneath the surface of the land. Water, from sources we can't see, but someone had foresight to dig to find.
Sources we can't see.
Water, nourishment you have to dig to discover
Places, resources one doesn't "know" but upon digging, you find what's needed and desired...
There are resources for which we search. We dig around, we scrape about, looking, longing and needing.
And one day you find exactly what you're looking for, but in the most unlikely places.
If not for the effort, the searching, what's needed would go undiscovered...