The Little House Ocker

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Here it is, as has always been a small house on the banks of the bayou disturbing ocher, hats, his company and not others. I was aware of it driven a thousand times, usually with intent. See this little house ocher I always aware of the past and how things in the deep south, where life was simple. He tells the story of a time growing up in households in the country and the small plot of land provided them with food and forestsand fields, provided with fun and games, and seasons were not only printed notations on a calendar, but important information which leads to sow their livelihood, whether and when to harvest.

This little house on the Bayou with wooden shingles, which are painted ocher, and there are no windows, little, at least none that I could see. There is only one door was always open during the summer and tightly closed shown in winter. Starting in November will be, I see littleKindle grapes that someone had collected and placed near the door. Throughout the winter the small fireplace, which was sitting right in the middle of the tin roof that blow clouds of smoke, while the small house was small and focused on the coldest days of January. I imagined the people inside were in connection with the seasons and seemed to live as she had always lived, without negotiation and delivery of this modern world. I think they decided to live in harmony with natureand as one with their environment and that they would do so until he died.

Everything that has happened here seemed so easy and wonderful. The people in this small house seemed to take only what they needed, and have been with the earth and grateful for his "sweet goodness. Almost every day, the clothes were hung with great care and an old wooden needles and a Top line there to dry. I'm sure there was once a garden and maybe a few chickens who livedalong the bayou with this family. I imagine the fertile ground that the bayou has been made available to rotate through each season with his hand and seeds were started indoors during the cold months of February, when the house was quite small and quiet with the exception of the Wind North and make the sounds of animals that ran along the bayou at night in search of food would be. I suspect that the seeds were never purchased, have been saved, perhaps in pots that have been opened in the front kitchen cabinets, SAlabeled with pieces of paper and glued to the glass, snap beans, squash and cucumbers. When the seeds have sprouted and the plants were hardened, I think the old man put in his garden, and all summer they would put their crop and sizes. And in autumn, the rich, chassis, root vegetables and cabbage was planted and re-turned to the cycle will continue. This is, I just imagined it all.

Unfortunately, the old is gone and the old lady has movedaway and the little house ocher, I am sure that will be taken away. Because space is coveted across the bayou and I suspect a large modern house will soon be waiting to take their place. Never again will show what life was like when nature was there, directing the day and the simplicity and durability has been a natural part of Southern life.

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