We drove down the lane past the old wooden house. The house still stands there on the Alapaha Hwy. but the owners have been gone for years. I think of this memory everytime we drive by. The garden is now gone and you can't tell it was ever even there. But I remember like it was yesterday.
Nine-year-old me sat in the backseat. My aunt in the passenger seat, my grandmother driving and my other aunt was in the back with me. Buckets lined the trunk and backseat. It was just a regular day during the Summer. My grandmother and aunts were always finding fields full of vegetables to pick. Today we were going to pick at my uncle's field.
My uncle stood out by the lane, his dark skin dropped sweat beads onto his lightweight long-sleeved shirt. Soon we would all be covered in sweat like him. I got out of the car and drug my bucket to the end of the row of beans. There was corn, tomatoes, beans, peas, lettuce, and so much more.
The southern sun beat down on us so ferociously that it felt as if the air was suffocating us. My grandmother threw on her long-sleeved shirt and big floppy mowing hat then she made her way down the rows picking peas and throwing them in the buckets. My aunts did the same. I slowly picked at the end of the rows swatting mosquitos that flew from the vines. It was so hot and I was already so tired. After filling my bucket halfway I yelled across the field, "Can we go now?!" I scratched at my legs where the mosquitos had eaten my little legs up. After I filled my bucket, I headed to the car to nap.
About an hour later the smell of tomatoes and peas filled the car and I slowly awoke to my grandmother and aunts throwing their buckets in the back and throwing their picking clothes in the trunk. They happily chattered back and forth about how they couldn't wait to get home and make dinner or eat a tomato sandwich. Sweat made its way down my brow and I leaned up to make room for my aunt. I stared out the window as we made our way back down the lane past my uncle's little wooden house. I knew the next week we'd be doing this all over again.
Back then, I had no idea moments like this would stick with me. Now, I'd do anything to be able to go back and relive these times with these people.
Did you spend your childhood Summers hitting up all the U-pick fields? Or was it just me?
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