Anyway, this past weekend Von and I traveled to Arizona for our granddaughter's, baptism. A quick, but special occasion for going. The thought of getting some wonderful sunshine and warmer temperatures was going to be a treat along with seeing our children!
It was a scenic drive as we drove through the Grand Canyons, the pines of Flagstaff and then the high desert of cactus, palo verde and mesquite trees. Unfortunately the wild flowers were not blooming.
Most of the trip I was reading and would look up occasionaly to see what we were passing by. It was during one of these moments as we were about to turn onto I-10 that I looked up to see multiple fields of green alfalfa.
I started to cry. To see that lush green field of sweet alfalfa made me so homesick and long for a big bear hug from my father. You see, my father was a farmer, but he also was a teacher. Whenever we were with daddy, he would stop and teach us about what was growing in the fields that we passed. It became a game to guess what the crop was. But of all the crops, alfalfa was my favorite, especially just after being cut. The smell would linger for many days, it was sweet and refreshing.
I didn't have my camera with me, but here is a picture of an alfalfa field, but not as green as the ones I saw.

Here is a picture of my father with four of his six brothers. My father is the one in the middle. This past week his youngest brother, Mel, and his oldest sister, Thelma, passed away. Mel was 88 and Thelma was 100 years old. I think my dad's family has had a beautiful reunion this week. Maybe when I saw that green alfalfa field, it reminded me of my family's farming legacy. They were all tillers of the land and took great pride in working the earth and helping create life with God's bounty. I am blessed.
