This used to be farmland. Cows and horses once meandered near this canal, crops previously grew here. Farmer’s hopes and dreams lived and died on this land.
Hopes and dreams still exist here, but they are different from the ones of 1893. The initial settlers of Meridian may have never guessed that one hundred years later this nineteen acre park would spring up instead of crops. Tully Park boasts two softball fields, a skate park, basketball courts, and a playground. A walking path follows a canal, wandering lazily behind neighborhoods and through Tully Park.
Despite the fact that it’s January and 41 degrees, people are out in force, taking advantage of the sunshine and lack of precipitation. It hasn’t snowed here yet, which is unusual. Our local ski resort doesn’t have enough snow to open its doors for the season. The latest opening date prior to this year was January 6th. The lack of freezing temperatures has tricked the local plants. Trees and roses are starting to bud, which will be dangerous when the snow and ice bluster in later this winter. It also means that bugs will be bad this summer.
Dozens of birds fly away together in the distance, their tight knit circle ebbing and flowing like the tide. A winter wind zips between the slats in my coffee colored bench, causing me to shiver. A small trickle of water slogs its way through the canal behind me. Dry, brown cattails rub together, rustling anxiously. A dad takes pictures of his kids hiding among the reeds. Older couples walk slowly along the path before me, either leading languid old dogs or being led by bouncy puppies. We all smile at each other and say a polite “Good afternoon.” We are all thankful to be outside and goodwill abounds.
Tully Park, like many parks in the area, has a long line of memorial trees. A plaque buried crookedly in the ground in front of a diminutive tree beside my bench reads “Jason Cody Rowland- eat, sleep, ski- Sept 1. 2007.” I wonder how old he was when he died and if he died skiing. Does his family come back to this tree to read his name, to remember? How many hopes and dreams were sucked into the vacuum of his absence?
I love that you started and ended this entry with hopes and dreams. I was just outside thinking about my own blog entry, and it occurred to me that the land holds so many things, including hopes and dreams. It's not just a place. It's a kind of keepsake box. I actually found an empty marshmallow bag outside, and I had to laugh because my brother, friends, and I used to make campfires out there and roast marshmallows. How long was that bag there?? This land chronicles everything,doesn't it?
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely start! I am already beginning to feel connected to your place and your experience of it--you've done a good job of bringing together history, descriptive observation and personal reflection. I like that there are hopes and dreams and also some fears implied too. It really has been an unusual winter so far--I am worried what this "nice" weather will mean in the coming months.
ReplyDeleteThis is a great start! I'm shocked to hear that the roses and trees have begun to bud already...I found interesting too, your observation that the bugs will be bad this summer. I too, am thinking of the threat of wildfires that strengthens with a dry winter/spring...I wonder how many of us observe something in the weather, and then look ahead and make a prediction about a possible consequence later in the year...?
ReplyDeleteThe bench with the memorial plaque reminds me that we have often thought of doing the same in memory of our son, who also died in 2007. He so loved the trails here, it would be meaningful to me to have a marker like that here in the valley.
What a lovely, and informative, introduction to Tully Park. You have nicely given us both concrete details and some of the history and emotional sense of this place. I look forward to learning much more about it!
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