Spring 1995 – The Taste of Fertile Soil

I looked through the rusty chainlink fence to the building beyond. The old factory looked as abandoned as it was supposed to be. The sidewalks around it were cracked and, in many places, completely overgrown with ivy and berry vines. Trees, a few that must be a decade old, grew through holes in the parking lot. None of the building’s windows held glass. Most of the windows had once been boarded up but the boards were warped and falling out. 

Staci suggested, “Breathe deep.”

I did. I smelled fresh turned earth. Sap. Grass. Water. Growth. 

Staci’s mouth flattened into a tight line for a moment before she said, “This is the place.”