Barefoot Memories of A Hillbilly - Natural (Free Access)

Just about dark, one of them April "showers" moved in, and has progressed right on into a typhoon. A virtual downpour with gusty winds whipping about. I'll be more than surprised if there's a single blossom left on the ornamental trees that seem to be planted nowadays in every nook and cranny. They ARE right pretty, lovely shape, with early foliage and some shade, and they don't get too carried away with height towering over, but they sure are delicate when facing off a stiff breeze" their trunk never gets very solid, and their limbs and leaves are so thickly shaped, they are kinda like a ship's sail waiting for a breeze to push thru. I think they are nice-looking trees, but what became of the crab apples and peach trees, the chinquapin or cherry trees that used to dot the countryside, serving as shade, beauty and a food source?
Pap recalls a time when folks would corral the pigs and such up in the woods so they could fatten up on beech and acorns. Not only did it make for some fat hogs, but it also cleared a bunch of underbrush that sat around in the forest like kindling waiting to be lit. People, and even the forestry department used to get together and clear underbrush and even had controlled burns in damp times to eliminate the probabilities of big forest fires. Nobody does this anymore, they call it "going natural".
Folks used to be able to get to the river for a day of family fun and fishing. Can't do that anymore, it too has gone natural, even if you could wade thru the briars and thickets to reach the river, you'd have to hurry home to check for ticks. Going natural gives them ticks a great habitat to thrive in. I can remember me and Brother practically living in the woods and over the hills, and except for a multitude of chiggers and an occasional tick, we never brought in more parasites than we took out. Back then, our biggest irritant was burs and "beggars lice." For those unfamiliar with beggars lice, they are those stick-tights and small pronged hitchhiking stickers that grab your clothes and shoestrings in the field and woods and refused to turn loose until you give each one your individual attention.
I miss seeing hawthorns and pink wild crab apples blooming on the farms, I miss seeing the peach trees and whites and pinks of the apple trees. I especially miss seeing the mighty maples that spend all summer shading the side of a farmhouse from excess heat and hearing their leaves rustling around like they are hiding something from us. Even the fierce oaks are leaving the farms after years of forming boundaries and shading the livestock on lonesome hillsides. As they go, disappearing from our present lives, I can't help but wonder what will hold up the fox grape vines and tire swings around the farm. They call it "going natural."