Such a simple thing, summer corn growing in fields under blue skies. But for me it means so much more... the growing corn elicits wonderful childhood memories.
My father was from Illinois, was the only boy among a family of 6 sisters. Wonderful weeks of summer vacations were spent visiting my father's parents and his sisters there when I was young.
Many of my aunts lived out in the country, their homes nestled between one vast cornfield and the other. Potluck dinners were often, and always delicious.
There was always fresh sweet corn at every meal. These cobs are still young and too small to pick, but I love to walk along the edge of the field, smelling the sweet corn scent, letting it take me back to childhood days and the fun of being with my father's family. They were a large boistrous and loud family, laughter filled every corner of every room in their homes. And I loved being a part of all that.
It has been more years then I care to think of since I was in IL. Many of my cousins have moved to different states, but some have remained close to where they grew up, and 3 of my father's sister still remain there. My oldest sister is in IL right now visiting with my brother, and she had the chance to visit with my aunts, and got to see a few cousins along the way. I wish I could be there with her. She said it was like stepping back into our past, the years melting away, the IL accents filling her senses, and the loving hugs of our aunts making her once again feel that wonderful sense of belonging to the bigger picture of family!
I think I will walk along the corn field again today with Cody. If I can not be in IL, I can at least make believe!