Faris and bandick – a 70s summer day at the river
Childhood summer memories are primarily of time spent at my grandparent’s house on the river. Days filled with nature walks or “adventures” as my grandmother always called them in an effort to get me excited at the prospect. Shouts of “Don’t Slam the Screen Door” echoing from within the cool interior of the house in my grandfather’s voice, barely heard over the blare of the baseball game on the radio.
Picking food from the garden. Canoeing. Swimming across the river or down to the sand bar. Crossing the railroad bridge while my heart pounded at the prospect of having to jump into the river if an unexpected train rounded the corner. Going to town for ice cream or to pick up books at the library. Spending days, sometimes weeks, soaking up all of the entertainment that my grandparents had to offer.
On a beautiful day like today, the Friday before a long weekend, I ache for those times. Those memories that feel like home remind me of what I am missing today. And I know that when I get in my car tonight it will take all of my effort to steer my car southwest and not northeast.