The Garden

About a dozen years ago I decided to build a new house in the middle of a cabbage field.    A bit radical, but having been recently widowed and really not inclined toward farming, mowing and maintaining eight and a half acres was a daunting, if not near-impossible task.   It didn’t take long to contract with a modular home company and design a house that was really bigger than we needed.

But what an adventure!   Once the field was prepared, a massive hole–a basement actually–was dug, creating a giant mountain of sandy soil which was at one time the base of an ancient lake.   The ridge on which we live is an old lake shore, which millions of years later became the road on which our home is located.   The digging went well, and although the workers held their breath waiting for ground water to come seeping or pouring out of the ground, the to-be basement stayed dry.

We were deemed fortunate, as a newly under construction house a mile or so down the road required seven sump pumps to clear the basin so that the cement floor could be poured.   Anyway, the mountain in what is now our back yard grew taller, as the hole grew deeper.    I loved it….being a lover of anything resembling a stone, rock, boulder, I was much enthusiastic at the thought that these particular stones coming to the surface had never been seen by humans.   At least not in the imaginable duration.

We were hoping for BIG stones, boulders such as many new homes feature proudly in their front yards, but the largest stone we found was no  bigger than my fist.   I believe much of it, maybe most, is Berea Sandstone,, and chert, and all sorts of rock that had either always been there or arrived with a glacier back in the ice age.

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