Nobody Here But Us Chickens

This morning when I was reading, I came across a poem by William Carlos Williams called The Red Wheelbarrow. It's simple, but beautiful in it's simplicity. It got me thinking about my Dad's wheelbarrow, which is also red. When we were little, he would give us rides in it. When my brothers and I got older, we wheeled each other around. Our house was on a flat spot in between two hills. We were much less careful pushing each other than my Dad was. We would get going pretty fast on the hills. If we hit a bump, the wheelbarrow would sometimes tip over sideways, spilling us out.

The poem and the memories inspired today's collage.

 

The chickens got in there because there are white chickens in the poem, and we had chickens, too. Ours were mostly Rhode Island Reds.

 

Yes, that's me and my brothers in the wheelbarrow. I guess we'd have a hard time fitting in there now! And, can you imagine my Dad's face if we asked him to push us around in the wheelbarrow???

 

I might need to try that, just to watch him sputter! Have a great weekend, everyone. See you back here again tomorrow.