in this valley, along a lane called "prospect hill," there is an old, crumbling farmhouse in the middle of what is now a sheep pasture. (i always feel bad for those little guys when they get sheared..they look so, well, weird. haha)
i like to imagine what the people who lived in that house were like..why would they choose such a place to build their home and farm? those hilly fields had to be hard to clear, till, and harvest.
there is a rusty old water pump in front of the house, and i imagine outbuildings filled with tools and animals. i can almost hear a brood of boisterous children running around..and chickens. i wonder about the "woman of the house." what was she like? did she enjoy living so far from town? did she wander along the brook that rambles through the valley? the brook that originates as a spring bubbling up from her front yard, eventually growing into a stream and merging with the codorus creek, which meanders all through our county until it finally meets up with the mighty susquehanna river, rushing over rocks and through forests to join with the chesapeake bay, which then flows to the atlantic ocean...? was she aware of the awesomeness of this?? did she care where that brook went? or just that it sometimes flooded during a heavy rain? where was she from? what was her name? did she love the hills and valleys? my questions are endless...
one thing i do know, is that she (or someone who came after her) liked daffodils. i know this because they still bloom every spring.
today, i saw a few blooming at a house on my way home from work & so i decided it was time to check out the prospect hill farm to see if "her" daffodil's were out yet. ...
almost. i'll just have to drive by again in a few days. :)
