Incredible Blogger Marathon Challenge #02
Challenge # 2:
Here lies a rutted, gravel road with water collected on each side in puddles to fill the holes. The road snakes through my parent’s land, 42 acres of field and forest upon which I spent my childhood days. Each day to and from school we kids, especially the four youngest of us, would trek down this road to the bus stop across from the mailboxes out on Duncan Creek road in Skamania, Washington. In this particular spot I have one memory that is eerily brought to my mind. It was one day I was coming home from school after I knew one of our cows had been “butchered” as the term was used. As I walked up the road, I saw the streaks of blood on the grass in the meadow and the bloody puddles and round, red spherical objects that resembled plums, but were not actually plums, lying on the road. What they were I still to this day don’t know, but it was a sickening feeling my young heart felt that day, walking past the scene of the carnage where one of our family’s cows had been slaughtered and brought away to be cut up and transformed into the meat that I would later eat in my mother’s or father’s cooking. Fresh meat, organic meat, grown on this land on either side of this gravelly road. But to my tender sensibilities, it became a rugged road of horror as well as curiosity that day.