Digging the Dirt
Anna liked digging in the dirt. She always seemed to have mud on her face when we were kids. Anna live, not next door to us , but around the corner almost right behind our house. Directly behind where we lived was an empty lot. It was an odd parcel of land because there was no direct access to it from the street. You had to either walk up Dr. Hites driveway or climb the fence next to Anna’s house. It was a modest neighborhood, which got more modest on her street. I remember her dad dying when we were kids. She never talked much about it.
Anna still looks today, like she did then, beautiful, plain and sweet. She was literally the girl next door. I think I loved her, but at that age I really did not think about love conceptually.
We use to play doctor in our play house, I have no idea what we did, but it was fun. However, we always seemed to get back to the dirt. One day we got into a lot of trouble for throwing wet mud pies at passing cars. Our downfall was doing this deed in front of my house.
We lived in that house for a few mores years, at that point, my dad was doing well with his business, so he built a new house and we moved to the suburbs. I lost touch with Anna after that, but always wondered what happened to her.
Last week, while visiting Virginia, my wife talked me in to taking a tour of Thomas Jefferson’s famous home, Monticello. I really did not want to go, I hate tours as much as I hate crowds. Fortunately, there were only six of us , walking through the house. It really was fascinating and I enjoyed it.
Afterwards, I was wondering around the grounds, making a few pictures. Off to the side, I noticed a group of people in a hole, excavating. I walked over to take a closer look. These archeologists were working diligently and delicately. I made some comment to them about digging in the dirt, and this beautiful woman looks up at me, smiles and says, “oh hello William, how have you been”. And I felt 12 years old, all over again.