Potter Hill

     I guess you could say I was the luckiest girl in Cohocton, my dad owned a 500 acre farm on Potter Hill. Dad was a potato farmer but we also had a small dairy of about 30 cows,pigs and chickens. I remember as a  child waking up to the smell of fresh bread baking in the kitchen and my  pet dog Rex nudging my arm. Rex was a Newfoundland and the best friend a girl could ever have. He weighted over 100 lbs. and thought  he was my nanny. Listening to my mother cooking breakfast and humming as she worked I would gave Rex a hug around the neck and jump out of bed.
    After breakfast Rex and I would be  off to start our day. Running barefoot I would head to my swing. We had large maple trees surrounding our lawn and Grandpa had made me a rope swing with a wooden seat. How I loved that swing, it played an important part in many of my childhood adventures. I would swing as high as I could,  look out over our land and let my imagination go wild.   
     Our farm was at the very top of Potter Hill, from my swing I could see for miles. I remember looking out over our fields and thinking it was the most beautiful place on earth. I felt I could reach out and touch the sky, look down and smell the rich musk of earth and feel so close to God.