This park used to be a field, often home to herds of cattle and horses. It lays below the cliff and hillside where I grew up. Of course, no animals were ever kept on that piece of ground in the winter because of winter flooding such as this. It was fascinating to look down and literally watch for hours, as the the river rose and claimed first the banks, and then the numerous Russian Olive trees, and within a day, could claim the entire plot of land, at that time, owned by Rustin Brewer. Sometimes, as a preteen, I would bundle up and stand on the bluff, imagining what treasures might be revealed as the floods would dissipate. Sometimes I wondered if I would see a body floating by, having been freed from its burial ground further up river. I love how it has all been developed into a walking park for the community. I used it frequently when I was trying to strengthen my knee following surgery, by walking/running (mostly walking...haha). So many sweet memories were revived, of hours and hours spent on our side of the river, playing with my 5 sisters and 2 brothers in the river, catching Crawdads, trying to catch fish with our bare hands, daydreaming from the branches of shady trees that hung out over the river. Back then, it was safe to swim in, to play in, and our section of the river was shallow and mild enough that we could safely walk or wade across from one side to the other in under 60 seconds. Of course with little ones around, it was never safe to drink the water. ;)
Posted on: Wed, 12 Mar 2014 03:32:35 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015