Delta Dirt.com was established as a way to remember and honor our forefathers and foremothers who stayed with the land and fought through the hard times and heart breaks this land often dealt. Most never lived long enough to share in the delta’s wealth. Many of their contributions have gone largely unnoticed and unappreciated. We want to change that.
Some ask what is delta dirt? A fair question. If you have to ask you may never figure it out. In my mind delta dirt represents a sense of place and a time of reflecting on the hard work, plain living, sweat, wit, grit, and spit that it took to bring the delta from the hard life it dealt to the prosperous life it offers today. The old shacks and farm-house are now gone leaving no trace of the past.
I still love to walk through the fields on a hot summer day. I still hear the dinner bell to call the farm hands to dinner. The sounds of children playing, sounds of the old field hollers.
I still hear the sound of a lonesome airplane making its way through the sky interrupting the silence. Those sounds are still there and will forever be there for those who are tuned into the delta dirt.
If you have an appreciation for the delta please join this page and share with us your stories of growing up in the delta. If you are not from the delta but you have a love of the land, its people, their music and their values; we want to hear from you too.
Ten Miles East of Jones by Billy Henderson
©
2011
On an occasion I’ve been reminded of that solo plane that really you didn’t see but when you heard it on a bright fall day… Those moments… It’s a very melancholy feeling like riding your bike to the ballfield or standing in a field on a fall afternoon.. Funny how one small plane can surface and you’ve gone home
Your recollection of the crop duster flying overhead is shared by me as well. It’s poetic and I appreciate your comment. Thank You!
What a lovely memory, filled with feelings that truly capture the ambience of the rural delta and the life here. Thank you for posting such a salute-worthy sentiment.
Amazing how alike the experiences are of the folk trying make a living off the land. Your story and song could just as well have been of early life in South Africa.
Also read “Footsteps”…… Laura sure has a wonderful way with words.
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