If I could see it

In response to The Sandbox Writing Challenge. In which the dynamic Lady Calen has asked  us to share the vision we would see, if we could pick just one, from our future.

For this one the answer is clear, crystal actually. I would want to see my home, the on my kids will finish growing up in. The one we own free and clear. It has a veranda and a yard, a big one. There’s a small smoke house out back, and there are wisps of smoke coming from it, tantalizing the neighbors down the way.  Not far from it a little woman hut, where I do my home brewing, there are clothes lines strung in between the two. Because drying clothes that way isn’t just the best way, it’s the way our fore-mothers did it before us.

In the front yard there is a neat rows or brightly colored tires. My daughter would have pained those, and each one would be home to it’s own little garden, growing vegetable and herbs, greeting visitors and passers by with the scent of delicious life.

In  my vision the sun is setting and me and the Chief are sitting on the front step watching the sun say goodbye, in a kaleidoscope of color. He’s sitting one step below me, between my legs, he head resting on my chest, my feet in his lap, him idly rubbing them, as we listen to the boys run, after each other, or after a football, laughing and squealing with delight. Eva is not to far from us sitting beside the Lady of the night plant I’ve planted under my bedroom window, her brow creased in concentration trying to bind the colors of the sunset to her canvas.

Later our friends are coming over, for for dominoes, or projected movies, or beer, or cards, or just to chat in the early evening, all accompanied with my smoked creations and homebrew beer or wine. Their choice, there’s plenty of both to go around. They will leave and the kids will go to bed, and we too will retire. Feeling satisfied in each other’s arms.

Yes. If I could see one day, I would play the memory over and over, it would be a prophesy I will make real or die trying.

 

 

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