There was a dog walking loop we would take with our Spring Spaniel Sam. Starting with the house then on through the woods, through a park, past some things and home again.
That murky, silt-ridden water used to be less-so. And at this spot, with the bridge over it, the water was deeper than in other places along the creek. In the winter it would freeze and the I. boys and R. would skid across it. I'm not sure I did. I can imagine myself imagining myself falling through the water. Deep wasn't that deep, really, four feet or less...it was Maryland so the water wouldn't be as cold as the Arctic...and yet I was the kid who pictured herself falling in and getting hypothermia? I don't remember a timid childhood. But we all have our timid moments, don't we?
The creek's flow used to be substantial. Well, that's an exaggeration...there were no dry puddles trickling to the next deeper pool...it was all one fluid thing. Farther down there was a bit of a slide. The I. boys and I would strip down to basics and slide down it. See? I wasn't scared of going down a rock slide into a pool (maybe 1 foot really). Below is the house my godmother lived in when I was little. It has fallen on hard times. I should buy it. Except I have no money. I got a creepy feeling walking by it, like scary men were camping out in it...I do have a paranoid streak...but it was the perfect den of shelter for bums and mass murderers: Away from things a bit, very little traffic.
This bridge used to be wooden and crumbling. Now it is concrete and metal.
There is a reason to take photographs of all things you remember and find special..no matter how small the memory or special-ness...you simply never know when it might get destroyed. This concrete foundation has a little bit of my brain space. I can't tell you why but I took a few photographs of it anyway.
Woods!
This loop, or the first part, was also the way to walk to our pool. As a kid I would always stop at this stump, get on it and say something...some little nursery rhyme about underpants I think...then jump off it. I liked doing that. I wonder when I stopped.
McKenny Hills. There used to be playground equipment here. Old school stuff, all metal and begging for the broken arms or strangled necks of schoolchildren. I fully expected to see this equipment and to play on it to the best of my adult ability. Unfortunately all traces that it ever existed are gone. There weren't even dried out yellow spots of grass where the structures' shadows blocked the sun. Boo.
Duck, duck, goose!
Down these stairs was another abandoned bridge. I didn't go down them because I didn't want to see any changes.
Even the swimming pool is different. The outbuildings are the same but the pool itself is not the pool I learned how to swim in. Grrrrrrr.
That murky, silt-ridden water used to be less-so. And at this spot, with the bridge over it, the water was deeper than in other places along the creek. In the winter it would freeze and the I. boys and R. would skid across it. I'm not sure I did. I can imagine myself imagining myself falling through the water. Deep wasn't that deep, really, four feet or less...it was Maryland so the water wouldn't be as cold as the Arctic...and yet I was the kid who pictured herself falling in and getting hypothermia? I don't remember a timid childhood. But we all have our timid moments, don't we?
The creek's flow used to be substantial. Well, that's an exaggeration...there were no dry puddles trickling to the next deeper pool...it was all one fluid thing. Farther down there was a bit of a slide. The I. boys and I would strip down to basics and slide down it. See? I wasn't scared of going down a rock slide into a pool (maybe 1 foot really). Below is the house my godmother lived in when I was little. It has fallen on hard times. I should buy it. Except I have no money. I got a creepy feeling walking by it, like scary men were camping out in it...I do have a paranoid streak...but it was the perfect den of shelter for bums and mass murderers: Away from things a bit, very little traffic.
This bridge used to be wooden and crumbling. Now it is concrete and metal.
There is a reason to take photographs of all things you remember and find special..no matter how small the memory or special-ness...you simply never know when it might get destroyed. This concrete foundation has a little bit of my brain space. I can't tell you why but I took a few photographs of it anyway.
Woods!
This loop, or the first part, was also the way to walk to our pool. As a kid I would always stop at this stump, get on it and say something...some little nursery rhyme about underpants I think...then jump off it. I liked doing that. I wonder when I stopped.
McKenny Hills. There used to be playground equipment here. Old school stuff, all metal and begging for the broken arms or strangled necks of schoolchildren. I fully expected to see this equipment and to play on it to the best of my adult ability. Unfortunately all traces that it ever existed are gone. There weren't even dried out yellow spots of grass where the structures' shadows blocked the sun. Boo.
Duck, duck, goose!
Down these stairs was another abandoned bridge. I didn't go down them because I didn't want to see any changes.
Even the swimming pool is different. The outbuildings are the same but the pool itself is not the pool I learned how to swim in. Grrrrrrr.
1 comment:
Oh wow mademoiselle you have captured a lot of my own memories from Silver Spring by virtue of your pix! The pool was so splendid, to anticipate a walk at dusk after work, having ridden the subway (fondly or not so fondly known from law school subway-riding as "the subterfuge" for reasons that totally escape me)out of steaming smelly DC, then onto the Ride On bus with more hot and cranky people, women tugging at pantyhose, men slowly roasting in their jackets and ties. Then swig a beer really fast and hike quickly through the woods and across the playground and through the fence, to a nearly abandoned pool. Bored teen lifeguards smirking at the old farts (we were hmmm barely 30??) and wishing for the clock to accelerate or maybe some heat lightning to flash so they could EMPTY THE POOL. But as the air cooled off slightly the pool lights came on and it was total summer magic.
Thanks for reminding me!
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