As I walked the land of our ancestors I could almost see them going about their daily duties. Stopping before some trees and shrubbery which surely had been an old home site, I could see the old home with the out buildings nearby. The husband plowing in the field as the crows circled overhead, the wife washing clothes outside in the old black wash pot. A small child coming from the barn with a pail of fresh milk and a teenage girl hanging clothes out on the line. On the porch sat an elderly gentlemen smoking his pipe, an old dog lying by his chair.

Walking on down the old field road I could almost see the old church nestled among the trees. The pastor standing outside the door with his hand extended as the members file out. They head for their buggies and wagons to go home for a day of leisure. Relatives will visit and a meal will be enjoyed. The young children will be playing and having the times of their lives. The men will be talking of the past week and their daily work and accomplishments. The women will talk of recent marriages, funerals, and quilt making.

As I cross the old winding creek I could almost see the old mill standing with it’s mill stones grinding away, a young lad fishing for his supper from the calm waters of the mill pond. The old miller measuring his portion of the meal and grits for his pay to grind the farmers corn. Here also, latest news would be told and taken home to be spoken again. On down across the creek I could almost see a buggy approaching. A man dressed in a black suit tipped his hat as he passed. I wondered if he was the pastor from the church.

Passing a fresh plowed field I spot an old man at the end of a row drinking water from a jar. He sets it back down among the bushes to keep cool and wipes his brow. He turns his mule around and starts down a new row. As I walk on by I hear a dinner bell ring. Looking back the old man stops plowing and unhitches his mule and starts across the field.

Around the curve I could almost see the small country store nesting under an old oak tree. The keeper nodding as I passed by. I wanted to stop and visit but when I reached the steps the store was gone as were the same with the old home, church, and mill. In their places were trees and underbrush. I will not be discouraged and will visit again. I know my ancestors and their friends are there and will look for me when I return. JH