Sunset on Hanover Hill

PHOTOGRAPHER'S JOURNAL: 

The House on Hanover Hill

She remembered: 

Waking early, 

the scent of fresh hay already in her dreams 

and something else she couldn't recall 

in the corner bedroom where the peeping sun first peaked.

How her fingers 

repolished the banister down the stairs! 

wet sneakers in dewy grass, 

her bicycle, propped against the great maple that defined the yard. 

Standing in the center of the center field, 

rowed corn measuring the hills' undulations, 

the amber waves, a quilter's celebration,

concentric reverberations as far as vision,

And the bicycle 

slipping on the sand as her leg

dodging ruts, coasting, freewheeling, carefree 

swung safely on to the saddle

The colors in crystal

green, golden, ruby red beside the onion braids, 

in rowed procession gleaming

and the smell of cinnamon and turpentine in the pantry closet.

Fragrance of cedar

like a premonition

when they brought in the old, wooden chests

and laid in the curtains and linens and dishes and all.

another view of the Farm on Hanover Hill: http://rothphotos.blogspot.com/2011/04/poised-for-spring.html