It's Friday morning. The air is still and heavy with moisture and the lawn, refreshed by the unexpected and greatly appreciated rainfall earlier in the week, waves a challenge: "Come and see us. Watch us grow." The lawnmower awaits.
The unusual greenness of the grass is a real plus for Gravette Day tomorrow; so by the time you read this, Gravette's 121st birthday party is history, as is Decatur's annual celebration which began in 1953 to celebrate the town being honored as Look Magazine's small All American City. The publicity the city received in the national publication was well deserved.
Is Look Magazine still being published? What about Collier's Magazine, which tried vainly to compete with the Saturday Evening Post and which I believe is now a monthly publication. Many such publications informed and entertained America and are now just part of history.
Many small-town celebrations continue to be enjoyed and, although they may have been changed or modified, are still making history for the youngsters who attend. Their experiences today will be "the good old days" they will remember 25 or 30 years from now. It is good there is enough interest to continue these annual events, even though old timers usually compare them to their "good old days."
Yes, it is Friday morning and the warmth of a rising sun reminds us that it is August. A mighty diesel locomotive can be heard north of Gravette. You can almost feel the power as its wheels labor to conquer the steep climb from Sulphur Springs into Gravette. It seems to take forever to crest the hill but now, as it tops the steep grade, the engineer sounds a "good morning" whistle to Gravette before the train almost coasts steadily south toward Decatur and Gentry.
The train sounds have changed. What used to be the chug-chug-chug of a coal-powered monster is now a steady, though powerful, roar. And what used to be the acrid coal smoke and residue from the engine has been replaced with a pungent, oily odor. Even the whistle sound is different as the engineer sounds a crossing warning even though a train-gate blocks the only crossing in Gravette. And didn't there used to be a ringing bell as an engine approached the local station? Maybe that was just for passenger trains.
So much for memories. Now a reminder of an Off the Cuff last year when I informed readers of the fig pen I constructed. Yes, new readers that's a FIG pen, built to foil the deer who might have been tempted by a little fig tree which provided almost two dozen juicy ripe figs last summer. Fig trees find it hard to survive in cold Ozark winters (unless they are mulched). Although I mulched the little five-foot tree well, it didn't make it through last winter. But, surprise of surprises, before I decided to clear the spot a couple of green shoots poked through the mulch and their fast growth showed they were off to the races.
Their growth, joined by several other spikes, was so fast it became obvious the fig pen would have to be enlarged. I'll spare you the process except to say small trees are now approaching 16 feet in height. Small green nodules have appeared and are fast becoming recognizable as a bumper crop of figs. I will have to drag out a step ladder to harvest much of the crop.
Fast forward: Of course, I'll mulch the plants this fall and, if by some miraculous bit of luck, the above ground "trees" survive, the fig pen will have to go next year. Those big fig leaves were probably not desired deer food anyway. So this is the end of the fig pen story now and forever more.
There's still sweet gum balls to write about. As well as hummingbirds, crab grass, feral cats and the mess the world is in. Stay tuned.
Dodie Evans is editor emeritus of the Westside Eagle Observer. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 08/13/2014