Slim Randles' Home Country
Treasures at the creek
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[August 29, 2009]
There is in the splashing of the creek a great spray of diamonds.
As each youngster sails like an astronaut out on the tire swing,
then releases their hold on the earth to flail, suspended in time
and space for that brief second or two, there is a timelessness, a
postponement of all things evil and destructive, an affirmation of
The swimming hole in Lewis Creek has been there since Indian
times, of course, and the tire swing was probably preceded by simply
a rope with knots in it. It is one of the summer lodestones of our
existence. Each summer we have to make our pilgrimage in the hot sun
to the hole below the little waterfall, to the place were Lewis
Creek widens and deepens for the benefit of hot, dry people before
becoming just a creek again. And in this widening of the creek, this
sacred place in our summer lives, we also play witness to the
passage of years.
Across the creek from the tree with the tire swing, the gravelly
bottom extends gently with almost no current for ten feet or so.
This is the baby beach, where squealing tots are allowed to cool off
without benefit (or hindrance) of any more covering than the smiles
of their parents. As the children grow, they venture farther out
into the current of the creek and test their strength against the
forces of nature. By the time a youngster is 8 or 10, the seduction
of the tire swing becomes overwhelming, and the flailing of the arms
and legs against the blue of the sky begins. Later still, when
gangliness becomes fluidity and sleekness, and we want to make
catlike moves to attract the opposite sex, the tire is used as a
swinging platform for exquisite dives into the deep part of the
creek where the big trout lie in cold holes.
[to top of second
And as we age and watch our children come to love the hole in
Lewis Creek, and as we sip lemonade in the shade as our
grandchildren work their way up the swimming hole chain of life, we
can look at the splashing of the creek and see, with each sleek
dive, with each laughing belly-flop, the diamonds of the creek sent
skyward, and the laughter stays with us and keeps us strong and
makes us feel rich, and fortunate.
It is unnecessary to say the hole in Lewis Creek is an important
part of our lives, because it, along with so many other treasures of
the years, really is our lives.
Brought to you by "Ol' Slim's Views from the Porch,"