Remnants of an Old Farm

The old fields are outlined by stone walls all along the paths. The land is now enjoyed by hikers, dog walkers and children in what has become a vast park in southern Connecticut. In the beginning, it must have been backbreaking work to clear the land of wood and rock, to plant and harvest...and build the walls. The farmers had an eye for shape, they knew how to fit the rock together so the walls would last.

The old fields are gone, covered with new growth wood. The trees are still small enough to allow dappled sunlight to filter through spring's pale green haze.. In the afternoon long shadows stretch across the leaves that crunch beneath our feet.

It is unseasonably warm the day we visit. This sensible dog takes a quick dip in an ice cold creek and vigorously shakes himself off.

I watched the young boys do what they have always done, running through the woods, occasionally stopping to ponder a small discovery. Eventually they egged one another on over the slippery stones in the creek.

This child has utterly captured my heart...just as his father did not so many years ago. It is my son's birthday today. Father and son look almost identical at the same age.