Early this spring morning I took my yellow chair, red stool, and brown plastic Walmart chair out into the yard near the fence to rendezvous with Nature. Far from the streaming world of Big Data the splendid sound of the Golden Finch made sweet, sweet music to my ears.
It is spring in the Ozarks.
I rounded up my lovely wife and together we headed out for adventure in the Ozark foothills. We drove the white Frontier truck towards the city of Springdale.
The back roads beckon with a rural world hardly changed since of the settlement times. Still the sight of a pioneer log cabin caught us by surprise. I decided to pull off the hard road and inspect this mysterious habitation.
The curved grassy pathway made me think of the pasture poems of Robert Frost.
Past the cabin I walked toward the little house out back. My Aunt Lily Kitchens would have loved knowing her three hole-r still holds title as king of them all (she lived in Waldo, Arkansas all those years with a well and a luxury three hole outhouse).
Farther along the way I saw SHILOH MUSEUM posted on a much more modern building just above the old pioneer home. Kathy the guide told me all about the work of the Ozark museum. I even learned the original meaning of the word Ozark which is shared with those who travel to this lovely land. Northwest Arkansas.
(When people ask me what the word means I point them towards THE LORD OF THE RINGS and the people Tolkien called Hobbits)….