A Hill I Once Knew (creative nonfiction)

My Uncle Chuck’s house backed up against one of the humps of Little Mountain. As far as I know, Little Mountain has two major humps separated by two apartment complexes, two tracts of homes, two schools, and, lately, a strip mall, an iHop, a McDonals’s and a Starbucks always bustling with CalState Berdoo students.

My Uncle Chuck’s house butted up against the back of it and there was a small piece of it in his yard. I knew it intimately. He landscaped the crap out of it. He not only planted gorgeous plants everywhere, but he dug great paths and steps into the dirt so my sister, my cousins, and I could go run and chase all over it, minding the ankle-eating gofer holes of course.

We used to love to dig holes in that hill ourselves. My uncle had shovels for us all and, wherever he was working on some worthy project on the hill, there were my two boy cousins and I also working, digging holes to China or, if we were really ambitious, digging a hole large enough for us to sit it. Sometimes that took days, but the prestige that came with climbing into your own hole was well worth it.

-M. Ashley

4 thoughts on “A Hill I Once Knew (creative nonfiction)

  1. One can dig that music: wholly whole holy-holes of play sitting for a meditation with gophers, making a mountain out of a kid’s hill without the assistance of a mole.


      1. I think moles prefer to discuss the gram molecular weight of oxygen. Avogadro’s number of molecules is called a “mole” about 16g. In that area, the moles have dug to China and the gophers are busy with interviews with Rodney Dangerfield at the Caddie Shack.


      2. For a high school chemistry project, I wrote a song to the tune of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” that I called “Avogadro in the Lab with Atoms.” True story.

        Liked by 1 person

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