The Land Where Grapes Grow Wild

"The sun, with all the planets revolving around it, and depending on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes as though it had nothing else in the Universe to do." Galileo Galilei

This picture was taken by a river where I walk in the mornings. Grapes grow wild over a rundown fence that surrounds just under an acre of ignored land. An old house sits there too - needing to be pulled down. The land owners live somewhere else - in the big city, I think. There is a tiny modular house near the road access, and sometimes I think I see someone living there. But it is a mostly forgotten place. Fruit trees grow lanky and untamed. Lilacs bushes sprout everywhere, nearly choking out the grapes. The grass remains un-mowed.

But there is magic on that land. Something about it has always called to me. I walk by and I can see the gardens I have planted. The house I have built. The barn. The porch. I see the fruit trees pruned and healthy. I see the grape trained properly and growing with vitality, not struggling to find sunlight. I see the lilacs kept in check, and blooming beautifully. I see my neices running barefoot, large bonfires with friends, quiet rituals without the glare of neighbours security lights in my backyard.

I dream of finding the owners and buying the property. But land like that, even forgotten, is worth a mint. And unless a mint (or a cash truck, or the winning lotto numbers) falls from the sky, I will have to be content with my morning walks and my imagination.

And a few wild grapes, when they ripen...