Where I learned

As a kid I lived in the country 5 miles from a small town. The closest neighbor was a half mile away, and then not another neighbor for 3 more miles. Our house set on a hill about 1/8th of a mile from “cow creek”. The creek held thousands of places to explore, and I traveled to many of them. I had a favorite place though……

There was a path thru the tall trees that led to a small sandy beach with a huge rock outcropping. One large rock was the perfect “chair” to climb upon and dream. It was where I could plan and think…… I studied the beaver dams, I designed my tree house, I made lists of what materials I would need to build it. I had battles with Indians, and in my fantasies I rode great stallions and planned my escapes from the invaders. I built hideouts, and caves. I built sand cities with many roads, I caught catfish, and that is where I learned how to tie a hook onto a line. That is where I learned to love nature and listen to the birds……and watch their flight.

As soon as I had learned to tell time, my Mom gave me a watch and I was allowed to go to the creek until the hand reached a certain mark. Sometimes I didn’t get to finish my dream before it was time to return home, and there was so much more to see and do.

There was a swinging bridge that I was not supposed to go near, but I did, and I learned to be really brave when I crossed it the first time. There was so much beauty with the changing of the seasons. Each one brought it’s own personality and I learned to recognize that in others. There were ant piles that hurt if they found their way onto the rocks. There were traces of other humans, but usually I did not see anyone. There were swimming holes and logs to cross. Sometimes I would see a snake, but they never bothered me. That is where I learned to climb a tree and see forever into other worlds. I also built and launched boats that followed the ripples in the creek and traveled beyond my sight. They influenced my curiosity as to where they could have gone. Sometimes I found treasure in the small stones that laid around and then I buried them in little boxes I carried. Then with the anxiety of a child I would dig them up a few days later pretending again that I could use them to buy my Mom a new dress. It was my sanctuary, part of the clay that formed me and it taught me the beauty of being a carefree child, and it taught me to keep dreaming and planning, and searching and experimenting with life.