I grew up outside of Philadelphia. Across the street from our little house was a park, and through the park meandered a creek, Wissahickon Creek. The creek traveled through an area known as Fairmont Park. Fairmont Park is big - many miles - all the way into the city of Philadelphia. With the Wissahickon as it's center. There is a jogging/biking/horseback-riding trail known as Forbidden Drive, which follows the Wissahickon.
I grew up there, playing in the creek, riding bikes and horses on the trail, exploring in the vast woods that surround it all. It is an awesome place, filled with magic. Oh, the stories that I could tell...
A long time ago, Forbidden Drive was known as the Philadelphia turnpike. There is an Inn along the way. An historic place, hundreds of years old. It is a restaurant. It borders the creek. There are ducks and geese and it's in the middle of the woods, with vast tall trees surrounding it. As a child, it was where we went for celebrations. The food was always wonderful - the fires in the fireplaces were enormous. And you could always go outside and play with the ducks.
Years pass, many years.
I met my husband, Eric, and fell hopelessly in love. We got married - at Valley Green Inn. On an October evening, with just a few friends and family. On the banks of the Wissahickon.
Years pass.
We take our children to the Wissahickon, often. We bring bread for the ducks, we skip rocks in the creek. We ride our bikes and take long walks. We explore.
Years pass.
My father passes away. He requested that his ashes be cast into the Wissahickon. We found a special little place, and did as he asked.
Now we move away, across the land to the southwest. Ah, we miss the Wissahickon. We talk about it, we dream about it. We bought a little land; we have our dogs and cats and horses here.
We name our land:
Valley Green Ranch.
(note: pictures are by an artist, Nicholas Santoleri. My husband purchased the first one that you see above, as a wedding present to me. Valley Green is often painted and photographed, we have many paintings of it hanging in our home.)
