The
wild blackberries were more plentiful and luscious than any other
patch I had ever seen. Later on, in the early fall, the Concord
grapes were just as abundant but never did attain the delectable
quality of the blackberries. No doubt, years of neglect and absent
pruning suppressed the quality of the purple fruit. Still, this
place was the Garden of Eden for this ten-year-old.
In
my youth I regarded my secret patch as a clandestine discovery known
only to me. The thorny canes and old vines had few visitors due to
the their concealed location behind an old cemetery maintained by a
local church in town. A fork in the barely visible trail further
marked their location to me, but others might not even be aware of
the path. With so few visitors, there was always plenty for a
youngster to have more than his fill during harvest times.
I
rarely collected the fruits in a pot or pail. Preferring a pick and
a pop directly into my mouth, seemed the best way to go. Rinsing the
pickings with water never crossed my mind. Stained fingers, lips and
tongue further verified just how delicious those fruits were. Black
seeds, lodged between my teeth, often remained there all day, until I
brushed before bedtime in the evening.
An
accidental discovery...
A
few years later, when Dad thought I was mature enough to carry a gun
alone, I hunted in the same area. It was then, with most of the
vegetation dead and lying close to the ground from the effects of
frost and snow, that I observed that there was more to this area than
just berries and grapes.
It
was odd that it took me years to realize that the rocks and large
stones behind the berry bushes could not have accumulated there,
naturally. They had to have been placed in that fashion on purpose,
no doubt serving as an old foundation for a home or barn.
Further
visits revealed parts of old wooden beams, window fragments, broken
bottles and some badly rusted nails. A fractured crock pot and
pieces of a two-toned jug surfaced too, after kicking down some of
the old stones using my hunting boots.
Odd
too, that none of these discoveries interested me in the slightest at
that time. I was more than content to hunt, to walk in the woods and
to just enjoy the opportunity to bag some game.
A
return to the fork in the trail...
Approximately
20 years later, my dad and I gathered a few quarts of blackberries in
that same area of the old foundation. This time my mom wanted enough
berries to bake some pies and Dad and I were quick to oblige her and
her request. In addition, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to
visit the patch and foundation again.
I
was now in my mid-thirties and married, with three children. I did
not venture behind the thorny bushes to the foundation but I found
that I was more intrigued with its existence than I was during prior
visits. While picking berries and chatting with Dad, I could not
help but think about the inhabitants that lived in that location,
perhaps over 150 years earlier.
Who
were they? How did they make a living? How did they cope with
illness, adversity, and the cold winters? As I was deliberating
deeply the lives of these unknown residents, I was even more
fascinated with something I suddenly noticed about myself. Why had
my interest in this area changed with the passage of time?
My
thoughts quickly changed again and the idea of consuming one of Mom's
homemade blackberry pies soon took over my thought processes. With
our buckets filled, Dad and I continued to chat as we headed home
with our bounty.
It's
been nearly 30 years since my dad and I gathered those berries.
Today, I can't recall the actual time we ate Mom's pies or what all
my dad and I talked about that day. I don't remember the humidity
level, the temperature, or what day of the week it was either. What
does still stick with me, however, are the thoughts of that stone
foundation and the people that once lived there.
I've
come to realize that the old foundation was more than just stone and
mortar. Those early settlers no doubt had dreams and aspirations of
raising a family. They wanted to provide a good life for their
children and grandchildren. In all probability; good health,
happiness and religion played important parts in their lives too. A
foundation of intangibles was just as important to them as the stones
that served as the base of their home or barn.
In
the larger scheme of life, the imagery for those inhabitants, was no
different than it was for my dad and his generation, and for those
contemporaries of my life as well. You see, my dad built his own
home, and with the help of family and friends, I pieced together our
home too. Not only did we set the foundation in block and mortar
(more recent substitutes for stone); we also attempted to provide a
contrasting, less tactile kind of base for our children and
grandchildren too.
The
key ingredients and makeup of this abstract foundation included
components such as family values, beliefs, hopes and love for each
other. When you analyze and compare the ideals and goals of families
long ago to a family's dreams today, we might realize there's not
much of a difference at all. Not only are the tangible and concrete
foundations similar in purpose, but the intangible key stones are
analogous as well.
Perhaps,
some day, 150 to 200 years from now or more, someone might discover
my dad's house footer or my present home's foundation. Maybe that
person will reflect on the fact that there's much more to a home than
just a concrete base. Might that individual also realize that the
hopes and dreams for his or her descendants are no different than the
aspirations I have here in my home, or those dreams my dad had for
his home and family.
And
may future inhabitants recognize the fact that our dreams, goals, and
inspirational foundations in life are here to stay. They remain with
all of us and our descendants, well beyond the time when stone,
mortar and concrete begin to crumble.
Author's
Note: This coming summer, God willing, and if my failing knees
allow; I intend to visit that fork in the trail behind the cemetery
where that old stone foundation remains in part. If by chance, I
can't locate it, rest assured, I will still believe that intangible
foundations will continue on. And that they will be passed on again
to each following generation through time.