Monday, September 24, 2012
What I Meant To Write About This Summer - Part I
It dawned on me today, as I realized autumn is really here, that I didn't take pictures of and write about all the things I had planned to this summer. I had grand plans. I didn't make it to the Monarch Festival. I didn't get down for any of the many (way to many if you ask the people who live next to the lake) running, biking, swimming, streets closed again, hundreds of cars parked everywhere, lots and lots of people cheering, type of events. The last one I'm not so worried about - there's sure to be several more before the snow flies.
What was I going to write about? I was going to write about the summers of my youth. How it used to be.
WOW! I just read that last bit and I thought "Holy crap Lisa, do you ever sound old! Might as well tell everyone that you had a pet dinosaur when you were a kid." But, since most of my readers appear to be old classmates, and a teacher or two, well, you're all old too and I bet you tell similar stories to anyone who will listen. So here comes a memory............This is one of my earliest memories of independent exploration down here. Sure Mom and Dad brought us down swimming when we were little, but I was about 8 or 9 when I started coming down here without an adult. Not by myself of course, but with a couple of neighbor girls. You may remember when I talked about My Two Linda's? Well there was a third Linda. She lived across the street from Linda #1 and I. I'll call her Linda #3. She was about 3 years older than we were, but let us hang around with her all the time. I got to see puppies being born at her house - I'll never forget that. This particular summer Linda #1 and I were allowed to go with her to the lake. We discovered a neat little hideaway, a great place to play make believe. Remember when kids did that?
This is the little creek bed that comes off the lagoon. Pretty dry right now. I'm taking this picture from the bridge that crosses it. Back then, the bridge was a little closer to that teeny little puddle in the center of the picture, though I'm not exactly sure where - it was a long time ago after all. But, that summer there was water, and there was a little dirt island that we could get to by climbing through the slats of the bridge. We probably could have jumped from the bank to the island, but we were kids, we didn't know how deep it was, or in this case wasn't. There weren't many people walking around the lake back then, so we rarely saw anyone all day. We'd pack lunch and and head out. We'd spend a good part of the day there. We named our island. Antler Island. I think we found a branch that looked like an antler. We built a barricade around our island with branches, and made it a fortress. Of course we made up all kinds of stories about our island. We had a grand time. Boys weren't the only ones that had adventures with pirates or other villains. One day when we went down to play we found that our island had been invaded. Someone had taken our barricade down. Someone "found" our secret spot. Antler Island lost it's appeal. It wasn't ours anymore. I don't think we went back after that. It just wasn't the same.
This one didn't capsize like the first two, it actually went down.
Met Jim the Fisherman. I took his picture, and then I asked if I could take his picture. I'm sneaky that way!
He put on his trusty fishing hat and then let me take a couple more shots. He's a photographer. I hate to hear that, since I'm not. But, I took a couple more pictures and promised that I'd e-mail them to him, and I will. Hope he's not too disappointed.
I prefer the first picture - when he wasn't aware, and with his tackle box and the dock in the shot.
We had a nice visit. He told me he'd been in the neighborhood for 45 years. I didn't care to admit that I had him beat by 10!
I didn't ask permission. They never even knew I was there.
The water has cleared up again with the cooler weather. The clarity I've seen most of this year amazes me. I remember the water always looking like pea soup. We swam in it anyway. It's just the way it was.
This GTO brought back a lot of old memories too. And, it was something else I had wanted to write about this summer. Muscle cars. Cruising the lake. And, I will write about those memories too, but not today.