A couple of weeks ago I posted about the wonders of playing in the front yard when I was a kid. This week we’re headed for the creek!
How many times did my mother tell us either NOT to play in the creek or NOT to get wet. Seriously Mom, what were you thinking? Water running over rocks and through pools is utterly irresistible to kids and staying dry is unthinkable.
First, we rock-hopped up and down the creek. Intrepid explorers seeing the world from a new vantage point. Everything looks different from the creek bed.
Then we would skip rocks–I still do on occasion. How many skips can you get? Of course, mountain streams offer limited surface area, but it’s still great fun.
Next came building dams. Oh to create a pool deep enough for swimming. That was the goal no matter how shallow the creek. I don’t think we ever even got up to our knees. Well, not standing, anyway.
And finally, there were crawdads to catch. And sometimes newts. And maybe even wee, little fish that we never quite pinned down.
We stayed cool. We had fun. We got wet and sometimes even dirty. Once I slipped on a rock and came home with a big ole goose egg on the back of my head. I’m pretty sure there was blood on occasion.
Oh, the joys of a creek in summer. I think I may go dip my toes now!