Monday, February 26, 2007

The Creek of my Youth

This was the creek,,of my youth. A short trail behind my house,,and conected to my "Bobchi's property led to this. In the spring or summer,,I would swim or bathe in it.On half of the creek the bottom was muck..on the other side was sand and gravel. On rainy days we would take a canoe out and tip it over and play in it,,,when thunder and lightening came we hid under it for safety,,,now how stupid was that. There is one large boulder in the water,,,and 2 smaller ones,,close to it. My grandmother told me the story how 2 different Indian tribes lived on opposite hills and how one young Indian maiden fell in love with a warrior of the other tribe,,,they had a child out of wedlock,,and both tribes were feuding,,,so the couple and the baby went to try and ex scape,,as they were trying to cross the creek,,both tribes were shooting arrows at them,,,,they pleaded to the Gods above to turn them into stone so they would not get hurt,,,and that is how the three boulders of different size came to be in the water. Last night I dreamt of the other side of the creek,,,I was up on the hill and found a old cottage and was turning it into my camp,,,it was sorta like a long house,,,and a very neat dream that brought back memories my "Bobchi " told me. My grandmother had a very hard start at the beginning of life,,,I used to spend a lot of nights up to her house when I was young,,,she had twin beds in one room,,,she slept in one...and I in the other. She would tell stories to me before I went to sleep. And in the middle of the night she would sleep talk,,and sometimes yell out. As a child her self she grew up in Poland during the war,,,her father had a sheep farm,,and my great granmother was tortured during the war and had her head chopped off,,,Great grandfather and her buried the head at the beginning of the driveway,,up to the farm. She also told me how when she was out tending the herd,,,solders would come and want to ride on her wagon,,back to town. She never told of anything personally bad happening to her,,,but as I think about it now I wished I payed more attention to her stories of coming to America. She was a great woman,,and I miss her,,,perhaps she taught me at a early age to have compassion and respect for the elderly. I think on Monday's I shall post on reflections from my youth.....Happy Trails!!!

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