When I was little, we lived in Davidson North Carolina, on the smallest, rattiest house on the street at the corner of Catawba Ave. When we moved in, the weeds were so high my Dad rented a bush hog to get through it all. We had snake problems for months after. We painted it a clean white, and replaced the ancient, peeling windows with ones you could see through.
There was a big muskedine vine growing on the fence in the back corner of the yard. I would hide behind it; a green, leafy shade to read borrow library books under. Then, one day, men came from the city and cut down that bush. I still don't know why.
In the front yard, there was a huge oak tree, with an abandoned bird feeder hanging jauntily by one chain (instead of two). A powerline ran through the branches. One day, there was a burning smell in the yard, we went out to look and a squirrel lay on the ground beneath the tree. His little lips curled in a death grimace and his tiny feet were balled up in charred knots. The poor thing! He had been electrocuted on the power line. They later cut a huge swathe from the branches of that tree, for a crime it didn't commit. It never looked the same, with its ragged, gaping hole surrounding the power line.
I decided to take up gardening one summer. I proudly bought pumpkin, carrot and watermelon seeds. I helped Dad plow up the ground in my 3 by 5 patch of dirt and tenderly stood watch when I couldnt help. This was pure magic to an 8 year old, I had my own space. I planted the seeds in haphazard lines and almost drowned them in water and miracle grow. Day after day, I waited for a hint of green in the soil. I didnt have much luck though. About three months later, my garden long since abandoned and left to grow over, it was a drizzly Sunday morning. We were leaving for church and I was in my sunday clothes. I was waiting on Mom to be ready, so I looked out the window at the back yard. It couldnt be...I caught a glimpse of something that I thought was green in my abandoned garden. Disregarding the rain, I ran out and dug with my hands around the mud until I pulled out a gigantic, foot-long carrot. This monstrosity was at least 3 inches across the top. Muddy and dripping, I triumphantly carried my prize back inside.
One night, the family was in our living room, and Dad told me to go feed my cat. Ms. Kitty's food and water was on the screened in back porch, and it was very dark in the back of the house. I snuck around each dark corner, calling to her, but she wasn't to be found. Finally, I looked on the porch itself, and there, crunching cat food, was a black sihlouette that looked like a cat. Relieved, I flipped on the porch light and heard a HISSSSSSS!!!!! I spun around. There was a huge creature eyeing me, fangs bared and hair on edge, hissing with red mouth and beady eyes. I ran from the porch, straight to my Dad, wide eyed and crying. He chased the possum away, but I never got over my fear of them.
The field across from our house was just the back yard of an abandoned house, but it was much more to me and my neighbors. The two boys who lived next door came over to play most every day. We would play games in the tall grass and talk all day, and then watch the sun sink with its dying colors. Just after dusk, we would chase the little flecks of living lightning that zipped around tops of the bushes. Sometimes, we would imprison them in glass jars to take home and use as a nightlight. Twilight was a game of whirling lights and of a hunter's hide and seek.
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