WRITER'S PANTRY #82 It's the time of year I wish I were young enough to go on an old-fashioned hayride, if I could find one. I'll just settle for fond memories. Submitted to Poets and Storytellers United, October 17, 2021.
Once upon a long time ago in the times that used to be, October was not complete without a hayride and weiner roast in the woods. Mode of transportation was a hayrack pulled by a tractor. A hayrack was a flat bed wagon used for hauling baled hay from field to barn--large enough for a group of friends. A bumpy ride through the woods led to a clearing, and an awaiting campfire surrounded with bales of hay or straw for seating. Delicious roasted weiners were followed by s’mores--a sandwich made of graham crackers, a chunk of Hershey chocolate and a roasted marshmallow to melt it all together. YUM! By now the sky was a carpet of stars, the air crisp, and the campfire popping and sending sparks skyward. Time for the traditional ghost stories and campfire songs while the campfire does its magic. After a time, the fire banked, we reluctantly head back out of the woods, carrying with us a happy memory that will last a lifetime.