day 304: memories of bradley forest road

They would drive past our house in their family car, which happened to be a hearse, and they would wave.  All of the little girls leaning out the windows with smiles on their faces, arms flapping, not knowing there had been many dead bodies lying in the back of that car in the past.

After a rainstorm, of which there are many in Virginia, the little frogs would be jumping all over the road as the mist was coming up.  Not worms, like in other places, but little quarter-sized frogs that looked like green, wet, popcorn.

We rode our motorcycles all over the unfenced landscape.  Down the fire trail to the county fairgrounds, where we would fly down the dirt walkways over gentle hills.

Trees everywhere.  Places to build forts and take walks and imagine things.

Going with my friend to clean an old woman's house down the street.  The heavy smell of cigarette smoke on every surface.  The curtains, the furniture, the carpet.  And the sound of deep coughing that must have started way down in her toes as she sucked on another cancer stick.

The next door neighbors who had a huge garden filled with sweet white corn that they sometimes shared with my city-raised parents.  The fight my brother had with their son in that garden.  One swinging a rake and the other a hose.

Dragging the trash to the end of the driveway at night with a piece of board from an old ping pong table over my head to protect me from the ever-present bats that loved to dive bomb anything that dared move in the still, humid night.

Moths the size of birds that flew around the spot light we had aimed at the pool in the backyard.  So big they cast big shadows on us.

Walking to the end of the street to peek in at the pentacostal congregation singing and jumping up and down.  Being creeped out walking through their little cemetery with the leaning tombstones.

Lots of love in our house during the years we spent there.


LisAway | June 20, 2010 at 1:28 AM

I feel like I've been there. Just now. What a lovely childhood. I sort of wish this post went on a lot longer. I'm still on Bradley Forest Road.

Bossy Betty | June 20, 2010 at 10:10 AM

Ah!!! WIldlife in all forms! All around!

Lovely writing, Kazzy!

CiCi | June 20, 2010 at 10:10 AM

Great childhood memories! I cannot imagine moths so huge and bats. You had a great growing up time. I would have really liked it there.

Jenny | June 20, 2010 at 11:31 AM

Such wonderful memories!

Kimberly Vanderhorst | June 20, 2010 at 7:03 PM

I echo Lisa...I feel like I'm still there. Again, I call you a poet. You bring memories to life with gentle, word laced brush-strokes.

Katy | June 20, 2010 at 8:57 PM

Look at that! There is oodles of material in there for a fabulous nanowrimo!

Valerie | June 21, 2010 at 11:58 AM

I love this! You paint a very vivid picture.
Reminds me of a song by Miranda Lambert, "The House That Built Me".

Melanie Jacobson | June 21, 2010 at 2:58 PM

Oh, I love the imagery here. Especially the frogs looking like green, wet popcorn. Kinda brilliant, friend. You make it sound effortless.

Shelle-BlokThoughts | June 21, 2010 at 6:48 PM

I loved how that took me through a short journey of your memories... Love the way you write.

Dona | June 23, 2010 at 12:17 AM

I loved it!

Luann | June 24, 2010 at 8:21 AM

I love this. I can practically smell the popcorn frogs. :)