The little sketch in ball point pen on lined school paper records a place I used to love, the pond down the road from my grandmother’s house.  We used to walk there sometimes in the wilting heat, walking past wide fields of soybeans, seeing the long leaf pine woods in the far distance, though there was narry a tree to break the sunlight of our walk for the whole mile.  I must have been tough as a pinecone myself.

Then upon reaching the spot, still there is the heat but you can see the clear water like a mirage in a desert.  I might rewalk this path in memory now.  The blacktop under my feet responds like sponge, the measured distance slowly grows shorter, the water appears even more cool to see and think about, if not to feel.

Looking at this drawing now, I marvel that a line becomes a wake in the moving water — as easily as that.

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8 thoughts on “Remembered water

  1. Oh to capture many beaux souvenirs d’enfance, it would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? But how! What magic living childhood is …

  2. Lämpligt!
    du dra så effortlesss och så viktiga
    För din stöd, ge dig,

    Google translate: Suitable? you draw so effortlesss and so important For your support, give you

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