Lilly's Mound in an early Winter morning at Flying Hat Ranch, Texas, 2011 (click to enlarge)
In the far background are the Twin Mountains of north Erath County, Texas, 1,400 feet. Ducks swim and feed upon and beneath the pond in the middle of the photograph even in this cold weather. The gate opens into the arena pasture. The small mound with cedar posts upon it, to the far, far left in the photograph (you may have to enlarge), is Lilly’s Mound, 1,065 feet. The mound is small and does not stand out in the photograph — in fact, hardly noticeable — , but it is a meaningful part of this good earth to me and Brenda and Star.
Related Articles
- Winter day of my content (swamericana.wordpress.com)
- Snow and ice at Flying Hat (swamericana.wordpress.com)
Sage to Meadow 
“The mound is small and does not stand out in the photograph — in fact, hardly noticeable — , but it is a meaningful part of this good earth to me and Brenda and Star.” It’s how we all appear on this earth, small and insignificant in the grand scheme, meaningful only to those to whom we have formed a bond. A very fitting emotion for this Valentine’s Day, I think, for to me Valentine’s Day isn’t just for lovers it is for all who love.
Such good meditative phrases you have written, Annie. Your connectivity to Valentine’s Day is quite touching and true for those of us whose affection encompasses earth, plants and animals.
Jack, How very moving. Lilly’s Mound. Nothing more to be said. Nothing more is needed.
Teresa: Thank you. I knew my friends would catch the name of the mound and its significance.
That is a very fitting and gentle place for Lilly, Jack. Very fitting.
Thanks, Montucky. It is gentle and so was she. She never kicked out of anger. Never.
Rich depth of wild land lived upon by human beings. This kind of scene is the kind I like to gaze into, and imagine the things that have gone on, the comings and goings. And it brings peace and solace to me – this breadth of wild order of things. That it holds a dear being, too, makes it a special piece. Like an icon of what is good and redeeming, this scene. Appreciate getting to see it.
-cc
I like doing that, too, Cirrelda, the looking out and seeing what is good and redeeming. That part is there. I know it is. It holds a dear being. Thank you.
Hallowed ground contains parts of what we love. A fitting, and moving tribute, to a dear friend. We are all better off for having experienced this with you and Brenda and Star.
What is seemingly an insignificant change in elevation can be a mountain within our hearts.
Hallowed, yes. I’m glad you have followed us on Lilly. Such a deep and moving statement you have written — that an insignificant change is actually a mountain within. I am very moved by your words and so is Brenda. I woke up last night and thought that I would delete this post of Lilly’s Mound, thinking it perhaps too maudlin or sentimental. When I finally got up and read what you and my friends had written, I could never, ever, delete the post and photograph. I go on now, today, and carry the words of my friends with me, your words, Bill, and I am lightened and affected in the very best of ways.
Bill put into words what I felt. Lilly’s Mound will forever be a mountain in one’s heart, a glorious mountain from where winged hoofs will follow and love and protect you and Brenda.
Your photo is serene, very spiritual.
Meant to add — my grandfather rarely attended a formal church…he said every time he walked in the pasture he was in church.
Father Sky, Mother Earth. Thank you, Kittie, for your kind words mean so much to me. “Winged hoofs will follow and love and protect you and Brenda.” I believe she does. I’ve got a post in me about what Lilly taught me about old age (I’m there, getting there) and getting up every morning to exist for the sun and friends and tender shoots of grass.
“getting up every morning to exist for the sun and friends and tender shoots of grass”, wow, you may have just written the first sentence of the first paragraph of a great piece of writing! These are really, really powerful words, especially for us in our autumn/winter years.
The best part? I feel younger already!
Bill, Thank you. Yes, our autumn/winter years are here. I’m using that phrase you quoted and hopefully I can expand. Your love of life and the outdoors inspires me and others. The prose on your blog makes me look deeper into the connections we have with nature and its seasons. It’s always been there, but you bring it out in your writing. I think of several of your posts during the day while I work. The ice fishing with your son is a gem.
Just finished reading True Grit this afternoon. I cried when Mattie’s pony little Blackie died. I thought of you and your Lilly, Dr. Matthews. Thanks to you she had many admirers and will always be remembered.
I know that’s a emotional story. I’m glad through the blog you came to admire her.
Thank you, Jack. I am so touched by your post, the photo of your land and Lily’s Mound, the story behind it and the loving comments here. I hope you will write the piece about what Lily taught you about old age, already she is speaking wisdom to all of us.
Wendy, Thank you so much for your comment. I’ll write that piece about her and old age. She got up and had the sun for as long as it shined.
It is so beautiful, Jack. Sweet Lilly will always be remembered.
Grethe
Thank you, Grethe. There’s a lot of good memories about her.