Blog Prompt # 3- 318 Goodrich Drive
Choose a place that you find meaningful. Find its Genius Loci. Describe it in text and image.
When asked to select a meaningfull place for this weeks blog prompt, the first place that came to mind was my grandparents backyard. It took me some time to sort through what it is about this place that makes it so meaningful. It is never easy to quantify these things, but I will try.
My grandparents live in Warrensburg, Mo and have lived in the same house since I was born. I spent a lot of time there as a child. I remember spending a lot of time telling them I was bored and there was nothing to do. They were wonderful and loving grandparents, but they were not the spoiling kind. I had a few toys and that was it. They were not afraid to tell me no either. That is probably what made them such wonderful grandparents. They gave me everything I needed and nothing I didn't.
So when I would go on one of my "I'm bored " fits, they would send me outside and say "Kids are never bored...you'll find something to do." For about 10 minutes I would sit there in agony and then I would realize I wasn't doing nothing anymore. I would find myself catching frogs and fireflies and turtles, watching the clouds, building a house with sticks, making a road in the dirt, watching the birds, collecting unique rocks, climbing a tree, ect. It was the kind of stuff kids need to do, but normally don't with all of the distractions of home, toys, tv, dance lessons, sports, friends, ect. My brother and I would spend day after day engaged in this "nothing to do"...or so I called it at the time.
When I go back there are of my senses become engaged by the way everything feels like Missouri and feels like home; like the sound of cicadas in the hottest part of the summer, of the way the air is more moist and thick than in Minnesota, or the way the Fall leaves fall at Halloween instead of the begining of October, or the way the humidity in summer makes it hot not just all day but all night too, or the way it snows in the winter and melts the next day, or the way that in Missouri, April showers actually bring May flowers.
In my grandparents yard, I can imagine that I am a kid again. I know that places history and it knows mine. Time melts away. I am sure my grandmother (who is almost 90) still looks out the window and for a second thinks she sees my brother and I out there covered in mud. To me that is the spirit of a place.