My dad is in the process of selling his home. It was time: it’s been just him living in the house since my mom died nearly four years ago. Although not every memory is a pleasant one, still there ARE memories from the place in where I lived for eleven years straight and eight more on and off during college and prior to my marriage.

This morning as I was waiting to drive my dad to his doctor’s appointment, I was standing in the backyard, a fairly spacious tract of land. This was the place I practiced my swing and my fastball, the place where I learned there was an actual pastime called tetherball (the previous occupant had left the pole), and the place where, on the rare occasion north Georgia actually received snow, I would attempt to sled down the modest hill.

At the bottom of the property runs a creek. On the far side of the creek there once was a vast pasture. Old Man Addington had a cattle farm, and that was the grazing land. There was a small stretch of woods, the outer fingers of which created a blind, a narrow but effective barrier that kept the cows on their side of the creek.

The boys of the neighborhood (because one was the owner’s grandson) would occasionally play football in that pasture. I won’t tell the story of the time I stretched out to catch a pass and landed…let me rephrase: I won’t finish the story. Use your imagination. The neighborhood boys eventually moved away, leaving me as the only child still on the street, and thus ending the adventures in the pasture. Mr. Addington died many years ago, and I guess the land was sold…

…And neglected. Now, instead of a huge flat meadow, one sees twenty-five years worth of scrub pines that have arisen in its place. Although less tall and dense, you can hardly see where the old woods meets the new. I remarked to my father on the wonder of how the transformation occurred; it looks nothing at all like it did before.

I’m not entirely sure why I’ve chosen to share these thoughts with you, dear reader, other than to practice my blog-writing and thinking process. There are ample obvious points you can take from this exercise:

1) Our planet is an ever-living creation. When God sang the world into existence, He not only breathed life into man, he empowered Nature with the spark needed for survival. It recovered from the Great Flood, but was forever changed from what it was before. And left to its own devices, the land that was a meadow lives on, but now as a new entity.

2) If you want what you have to continue in its current form, do not neglect it. Nurturing can result in good things, but as the adjoining property to my dad’s indicates, there are many forms of nurturing, and you may not be pleased with the results.

3) Make memories while you can. If you leave the place of those memories only to return years later, you may find that memories are all you have left.

Until next time, dear reader: support music and arts education, study to show yourselves approved, and always be kind and helpful to others.

Blessings, Sheldon

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