Unearthed

     For several weeks while tending the rabbits, I walked back and forth over an edge of metal poking out of the ground.  I didn't pay much attention to it.  I don't know why.  Maybe I just credited it to some long lost landscaping plan of Mr. Childs, the man who owned this house long before I did--back in the 1940's and 50's.  People long dead now used to tell me how beautiful his gardening was.  They would say it with a twinge of melancholy in their voice, and I have always felt sorry that my gardening skills never equalled those of Mr. Childs.
     I finally started to edge the metal out of the earth, and look what I found.  Not a Sutton Hoo treasure, exactly, but cool nonetheless.  I am guessing it may have belonged to a plow or something even older than Mr. Childs.

     Then this afternoon, to my dismay, I came home to see this:

The demolition of yet another house in the neighborhood.  This one five houses down.  It's quite sad and a little scary. Especially to have it edging so close.  I think this is the eighth house that's been totally crunched down and removed.
Just across the street where once stood the house that burned, there is a mad bunch of destruction and activity.

This one is understandable, as the burnt house was no good and was becoming something of a literal rat hole.  Still though, look at all that scraped up land.  This kind of change is always startling.
     Perhaps it's the pace that puts me off.
     Perhaps it's a sign that I've been in one place too long.
     Perhaps it's an echo of my unsettled feelings, or perhaps it is the source of my disquiet.  Or part of the source.
     Anyway.  I myself became unearthed for awhile.  In an entirely different way.  As in "off the earth."  And it was GRAND!

Nothing like roller coasters to blast your mind free!