I’d like to share a few memories of mine from the past year of living on a cranberry farm.
A couple months after moving in, my brother Eric was getting ready to leave to go somewhere. In a rush, he whips open the wooden front door and stands out on the porch, only to be stared at by thirty-some people. The tourist pauses and says “hello!” to Eric. A little dumbfounded, Eric gives a quiet “hello” and goes back into the house.
The houses are included in the village tours, and the tourist had stopped to talk about our house to his audience when Eric unexpectedly ran outside. It was quite hilarious.
In the dark of the night, me and a close friend of mine were taking a midnight drive through the bog trails. We surprisingly ran into a group of giant deer which numbered about five. Because the bogs are filled with water and the trails etch in between them, there was no where for the deer to run except into the water or back down the trail.
At the time I was really scared they were going to attack my car. Instead they took off running down the trail. We followed after them because there isn’t enough room to turn around on the narrow trail. It was strange driving along with the deer, staring at their behinds as they ran. They couldn’t hide themselves because there were no bushes around. We were all stuck together in the wide open. It is an unusual scene I will never forget.
Another time I ventured out through the bog trails at night with a couple friends to simply gaze at the stars and have a smoke. We just wanted to talk and hang out and look out at the bog water with the moon shining down. We had just parked when suddenly a truck came into view in the distance. It made me uneasy because I knew technically no one is supposed to be allowed in Whitesbog from dusk until dawn. I let it go when I realized the truck was aiming right towards us. “Guys we better go right now,” I said, and we all hopped in the car.
We tried to be sneaky and drive with no headlights on. This was a mistake and a ridiculous idea, and only made us even more suspicious. We could see clearly through the moonlight, making our way back to the mainland when what seemed like endless gigantic gallons of water poured out of nowhere splashing all over the car and the windshield. It was like we going through a car wash!
It hadn’t rained in a while so the farm sprinklers had been turned on. Barely able to see with the windshield wipers in full force, we carefully drove faster, trying to get away from the water sprays. The truck almost reached us when we touched the mainland, where it finally turned away and off down the bogs. I think the truck had made its point to us. I was glad that he didn’t yell at us or anything. He had only wanted us to get out.
More memories to come.
The Cranberry Blue 