Like many of my fellow baby-boomers, I grew up in one of the suburbs that sprang up at the end of World War II.
But when I was a boy, aunts and uncles and cousins lived in houses that looked very like the old country house in the picture above. I envied them then. Now, I remember the smell of biscuits and bacon in the kitchen; the smell of gasoline and grass in the sheds; the freedom outdoors, and the comfort inside.
Sitting beside the road with my camera, I could almost believe that any minute Aunt Clemmie, all these long years gone, would step through that aluminum storm door, a white wash pan on her hip and black-rimmed glasses glinting in the afternoon sun.
I know what you mean, Edd, I know what you mean. Thanks for the memories you brought back to mind... :-)
ReplyDeleteGlenn, I try not to grow too nostalgic in my "old age" but sometimes I can't help but think of days gone by.
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