Day 5 of my To-The-Woods STEMersion
Today we went on a trip to Carriage Hill. It was a lot different than The Narrows reserve because it wass more of a farm than a reserve. It had a lot of historical stuff like old horse-drawn carriages, hand-built wood sheds, and even had it's own little museum on the history of the family that originally built all the structures.
Once we got a time to meet for lunch, they just let us all go off and explore on our own; it felt much better than being herded on mandatory lesson-hikes like Narrows. Sophia and I went to the barn where they had several draft horses, four huge pigs, and even a little baby lamb with it's mother! I found a big patch of clover nearby and fed some to the horses, and they couldn't get enough of it. I know from past experience that horses love clover and that its very sweet to them.
When we were done with the horses, we were walking next to a field when we saw a bridge at the base of it. There was a creek under it, and naturally we went under and walked around. The cool water felt very good since it was getting very hot; we even found a whole crawdad claw in the water.
A bit later, some of our friends came and met us halfway on the continuing path and told us there was a graveyard of the original family nearby. Sophia seemed really excited to see it, so we started on the path, had to cross another creek without a bridge, and found some more of our class mates who were also looking for the cemetery. We all kept hiking and looking for it, but we never found it and eventually looped back around front. By that time it was lunch, and we asked one of our teachers if they would show us to the cemetery since they had already been there.
As it turns out, we had gone on the wrong trail since the bridge, we all had assumed that the strait path to the cemetery was the gravel trail but it was really the grassy trail to the left we had assumed was something else. It was a nice little graveyard inside a closed stone fence. It had eight people and almost all were born in the 1800s.
When we got back to school, we had to write these poems about some object/place on the farm and its significance. This was mine, it talks about how important home is on the farm, no matter how tattered...
My Poem:
The Old Arnold House
It was still there,
After the storm.
The one that blew the coop across the field,
The one that scared the horses half to death,
The one that sent us searching for days for missing tools.
It was still there,
Its shutters hanging on by one hinge, half of the shingles scattered across the lawn,
The windows cracked and broken from flying debris,
But it was still there.
Her oak frame still holding,
The chimneys still were burning,
And papa’s old clock still standing.
The front porch still creaked,
The attic was still drafty,
The east wall still needed new paint,
And I still loved it,
The old Arnold house.
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