With the top down, we backed out of the driveway in the red convertible on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. The back roads were quiet. The sun kissed our faces, and then as we cruised beneath the towering shade trees, the cool breeze lapped at our faces.
The feel of fall finally arrived in the air, but Chayse noticed, "Someone forgot to tell the trees, Mom."
I suspect the colors will arrive soon.
Our destination for the afternoon was Abraham Lincoln's boyhood home. In 1816 his father moved the family from Kentucky to Southern Indiana after staking claim to 100 acres. Abraham was 7 years old. Here he would grow into a man over the next 14 years. Survival was hard work. The loss of his mother at age nine was even harder.
Abraham helped build the coffin, and his mother was buried humbly at the top of the hill south of the homestead with probably just field stones at the head and foot of her grave.
In 1879 a local businessman would erect a headstone in her honor (though the exact location of her grave is unknown. Later Abraham Lincoln's oldest son would donate $1,000 dollars for the care of his grandmother's grave. This lead to the purchase of the land that would be developed into the park.
As we strolled down the quiet trail farther, we discovered the original homestead had been excavated and the hearth stones uncovered. A bronze casting of the logs and stones now marks the site.
A few more steps and we came upon a log cabin.
It was surrounded by all the outbuildings and split rail fences.A cow bellowed in the barnyard. Sheep grazed quietly. A fully re-created 1820s homestead.
Upon our arrival, I discovered my camera battery was dead, so I was using my iphone and at this point the battery died.
We put away all the electronics and meandered the homestead.
The brown cow continued to bellow as she tried to swish away the flies bothering her. She came close enough to be say hello and get a quick scratch, but the kids were cautious as when she swung her head her horns were dangerous.
The day was quickly fading, so we reluctantly returned down the graveled path. The brisk air and closeness to nature was refreshing. Kiahra began dancing down the path~she leaped and turned gracefully with nature as her stage. I will treasure the moment forever in my heart.
Chayse scampered down the trail with her brother on her heals, and I walked briskly behind enjoying watching our children just be playful kids beneath the canopy where long ago Abraham Lincoln and his sister were children too.
I wonder if his mother sometimes paused as she toiled and watched her children scamper playfully too.
I hope so.