March 13, 2012

The Creek (I)

There was this wonderful creek a few blocks from our house growing up, where we spent the lazy summer afternoons. There wasn't much of a swimming hole, and the only fish were minnows, but we could sit there in the cool shade, and watch the grazing deer, and brave the 'rapids.' We really ought to have climbed trees, but I think they were mostly tall pines, without branches.  Every now and then the creek would become overrun with a lush green moss, and we'd pretend we were in the jungle, fording through the river because it was safe from snakes.  (Clearly, we didn't know much about jungles. And had not yet heard of piranhas.)

I have millions of pictures from our adventures on the creek, and I'm going to dig them out and start scanning them, I think. This is of my sister and one of her childhood friends (thanks for scanning the photo, Hil!). This was clearly not our jungle stage, but rather our Boxcar Children/hobo stage. I wonder what happened to that rose scarf? I love it. The bandanna my sister is wearing is still my favorite summer kerchief.

There is nothing I want more than to sit on those rocks, in the cool dark shade, wondering if it was worth the trouble to climb down and cross the rapids.  It's always worth the trouble, by the way.  Always.


1 comment:

  1. Oh my gosh--I loved playing boxcar children!

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