Friday, April 30, 2010

In 1999

We bought our property in the Ozarks after, Rex says, I convinced him we should. I don’t necessarily remember that conversation. However I do remember my initial reaction.

One summer afternoon, while driving between relatives and friends in Arkansas, we noticed a highway on our map that traveled north for several miles and then abruptly stopped in the National Forest. It called to us. After twenty miles through foothills and nine miles of snaking our way through twists, curves, and true switchbacks we arrived in the Mulberry Valley.  As we drove down the Mulberry River, blue-green swift water on our left, rock bluffs on our right, my face was stuck to the window. Trees canopied the road, water trickled from rock ledges, this place was alive, and are those ferns? The only ferns I knew were those bought from the store in pots to be hung neatly under the eaves of a house. These grew naturally.  It was then that I fell in love. 

So I can’t say I didn’t convince my husband to sell his Harley so we could purchase our 30 acres nestled in the Ozark National Forest. All I can say is that I’m glad he agreed.    

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