Counting Sheep

There are numerous nights when I have found it a struggle to fall asleep, last night was no different than the usual, I had missed my 'down' time and had caught my second wind, or third or fourth for the day and was listening to the very un-rhythmic snoring of Thomas trying to figure out how to get my self to sleep. On occasion I count from 100 backwards, other times I find myself thinking of a bubble blowing up to the point where I can fit no more thoughts in my brain, but usually I find myself visualizing the surroundings of the home where I grew up my entire childhood which in turn brings me a great feeling of peace and ease.

I grew up in a small town called Cherry Valley, in a home where my parents lived for more than 30 years. After living in Arizona for 8 years I long for its beautiful surroundings often. We lived on an acre, surrounded by these big monstrous hedges. I have vivid memories of my dad and brothers trimming them with chain saws and watching the piles of branches and leaves heap into large mounds on the ground, only to lay there for days, or weeks to my poor mothers despair.

The front lawn was almost always a lush green and I have many a fond memories of it. From rolling down hills, building snowmen, or even sleeping out there on mattress' one night when we had a few earthquakes. My dad must have been scared the house was going to fall in on us. I even had fun times as a teen on the riding lawnmower, mowing the lawns, and to my chagrin mowing over a few flower pots as well.

This large Palm marked the entry to our drive way and it seems that often in spring we would find a baby bird that had fallen from its nest. I remember scooping them up into a box and trying to nurse them to health with offerings of water from an eyedropper and bread crumbs all equalling to no avail.

This glorious aspen tree was nestled in front of the house, always surrounded by flowers of season. Dragon snaps being my favorite as I heartily played with the puppets for hours on end. I would pull thin shreds of the white bark from this tree and imagine making paper for some unique paper company and enjoy playing with the almost magic-like 'seedlings' that fell from above.

This mulberry tree was once the home of our tree house, complete with green shag carpet. Good times were spent up there with neighbors and barbies alike. The tree later became a nuisance to me because of the droppings of mulberry's all over my freshly washed car as a teen.

During the summer I would spend hours out side, hiding in trees or bushes, riding our bikes, jumping on trampolines, making numerous mud pies and having ample fruit on hand to never bother to go inside. This is the plum tree that was nestled next to my bedroom door. I would heartily pluck its fruit, even when a bit unripe, and enjoy it's bounty. Along with this plum tree I enjoyed apricots, lemons and even almonds, later my dad planted cherry, apple and peach trees that blossomed into delicious fruit.

In our backyard the main attraction was the swing. Oh how sick I could get people when I gave them a push. It moves in a circular motion and the faster I ran around the pole the higher the person would go. I miss that swing and the fun excitement it would bring.

As children we would climb this tree and leap atop the roof either looking down on the valley, throwing water balloons, or as we got older to sunbathe. This is the tree that I climbed to rescue a new kitten of mine, only to have a supporting tree branch break and a severely broken arm as a result. Allowing me my first night in a hospital and my first time to be put in the operation room.

In November of 2006 my dad sold our childhood home and moved to Utah. I made Thomas take us down for one final visit and at the time I felt a little odd about taking these picture of the trees and such, but I am so glad I did. It proves to me that the things I think of often when drifting to sleep aren't my imaginations or dreams but are truth to the memory of the beauty of my childhood.