Week Two: Second Sunday of Advent: County Road 23

So much depends upon

a white blazed Morgan
blanketed in verde
beside the blue pelota.

......by Nina

[Apologies to William Carlos Williams...]

So much depends upon

a red wheel barrow

glazed with rainwater
beside the white chickens.

WHAT depends? Seeing.

On my "block" of County Road 23 in Bristol, Indiana, north of US 20 until the T at County Road 14, I am determined to SEE, to be awake to where I am.

I have lived here in rural Elkhart County for seven and a half years. But I have felt "geographically challenged." I am an urban person, growing up on the north edge of Philadelphia, living later for four years in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and for nearly twenty five years in south central Elkhart, Indiana. It was my husband Donald's dream to "live on some land," not mine. So in some ways I have resisted making this home. It is time.

Observations:

My block is 1.8 miles long. There are 30 houses on my road. Two are huge, looking to me like mansions. One of these we used to call "The Hopeless House." It has been under construction for about five years and no one has lived there yet. Some houses are manufactured homes. Many are like ours, "in between." But ours is the only A frame.

There are two large stables and horse pastures on the east side of the road. There is one very large wetland on the west side and several smaller wetland areas both near the road and back into the woods. They can be seen now that the leaves are down. There are woods, small ponds. There is a corn field on the south end and a herd of cattle in a pasture on the north end.

Our home on four acres of grass, a small pond and woods is adjacent to 100 acres of Nature Conservancy. It is unmarked and basically unknown beyond the folks who live right by it.

So now, as I drive or walk up and down County Road 23, will there be any evidence of "vibrancy?"

As I drove home from church on Sunday with my eyes open I immediately saw a large bird perched in the first tree by the edge of the road to my right. I slowed and stopped. An owl? It's head did not look big enough. It stared at me and I at it. I carefully grabbed for my camera and as I turned it took to flight. Ah! The red tail! The red tailed hawk. It flew south toward my home.

And then, half a mile down, I see the vibrant Morgan blanketed in verde.

I smile.