The Color of August | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant memoirs of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    The "early service", was especially beautiful. The territory was washed in silver and I felt privy to something very special . In some way, I felt the silver washed over me -same as it did the sycamore tree. The air was heavy and I smelled the grapes on the ancient vine. My boxer, Cash took a few joyful laps, while my cat, Christopher Robin and I, surveyed the landscape. For a little while, the world looked different. It was a strange beauty, and so I sat there in wonderment for a while.

    Mama and Daddy, were not coming to Sunday Dinner today. Daddy is still recovering from his ailment. Kyle took them soup and I made pimento cheese too. Without the event of Sunday Dinner, I went back to packing. There really wasn't much to do, today. I can not pack up, what we use daily, so today I packed up a few small boxes of books (the last of them) and then I tackled the "business drawers". This project would hardly move me to tears, as the dishes did yesterday.

    I ended up with a bag of old receipts and mustered the courage to part with them. I am always sure that some electricity bill. kept for five years will one day be proof of my innocence or that a manual to something , long ago discarded will come in handy somehow. The "paper trail", we use to depend on really, no longer exists, for what the computer says goes. I burned the papers, just in case, someone who doesn't know any better, thought they would profit, by using my identity.

    By mid afternoon, that task was completed and the rabbit patch was tidy again. . . unless you count the laundry room, where all the packed boxes are stored.

    I called my son, Tres. Tres lives three hours away in Wilmington. I do not get to see him as often as I wish. He has a demanding job and is getting a second degree. Certainly he is ambitious - hard working and always a very devoted son. If you think I am bragging, you are right, and I "make no bones about it". I have five children and I have not raised a perfect one yet, but thankfully, that was never my intentions. I make no apology for pointing out their strengths and cheering them on with great fervor. Once, when I was "bragging" on Lyla, Will laughed aloud at my very biased opinion. I told Will, that I was only telling the truth and besides everyone needs a devoted fan in their corner. Someone who is dependably there, through thick and thin-someone to remind them that they are valuable and worthy. Will agreed and ended up applauding my position. I had that from the adults in my family-and I am "different, because of it".

    This does not imply, that I do not clearly see, their faults. Every one of them has at least one of my own bad habits, from being impulsive or dreamy or easily distracted , etc. but, they are a wonderful lot anyway . . .

    I watched the moon rise over the field. The morning was washed in silver, and the evening was bathed in gold, I thought - for the moon was deep golden, in color and for a while, the field was tinged with an amber light. It was supposed to be an especially good moon to make wishes on and so I did.

    Today was Monday . . .and that changed everything. It was not just any Monday, either, for it was the first day for students. I was quite concerned about the new routine and woke at four am. . .then again at five and so on, til at last I got up at six, once and for all. I let the animals out and had a coffee, hoping to come to my senses.

    I drove past the quiet pastures, past the fields of green soy beans and past the cornfields already parched to a warm shade of brown. It was a familiar route to me. I knew to watch for the yellow dog, for he crosses the road as he pleases. I know where the tractors may be , just before the shady bridge.

    The day was remarkably calm and went by quickly. Before, I knew it, I was on the way home. I came in the back door, and started a load of clothes in the washer. I moved on to the kitchen and began supper. I changed to my beloved "house clothes"and picked the dress I will wear tomorrow. While the sauce simmered, I went to the herb garden to gather some chives for the butter. I disturbed more than a few butterflies, as the chives had blossoms. The tender blossoms are quite flavorful and so I collected some of those. The air had grown sultry as the hours had passed. I noticed the leaves on the oaks were fading as I made my way back to the house. . . and that is when I came across a dear patch of floss flowers, that some call ageratum. The dainty flowers are a bright periwinkle color - I can never decide if they are blue or lavender, but I love them no matter what you proclaim their color to be. They are the color of August at the rabbit patch. . .along with the lowly "swamp flowers" which are a bright yellow and the creamy ginger lilies . . .and the faded oak leaves. I am glad for August.