Childhood Revisited: River Day
I grew up in an old-fashioned resort town. Strange to think it now, but that’s really what it was. Of course by the time my childhood rolled around, it was a resort town that was undergoing some change, drawing in different crowds, and adapting to the times, but plenty of charm left. One particular charm was the type of friends we made there: summer friends. We lived in a couple different houses growing up, and in each neighborhood there were still summer homes owned by city-folk, that in the summer housed for just a few weeks (sometimes months in the summer), kids to play with. They even sometimes came, like a delicious present, at spring or winter break. Beyond those friendships, our town also housed evidence of a past over-run with a summer presence of city-folk, including a small amusement park, miniature golf, and (one small town away) a movie theater.
While I’ve moved to “Town” (what we always called the larger town about a half hour from us, but not to be confused with the “City” which always only means San Francisco), my parents still live out on the River. This means I get to visit them. This week I’ve been out twice, and we ventured from their neighborhoods were we usually enjoy the quiet and the trees, down to the local resort draw, Johnson’s Beach. And it was everything I remembered (except for the absence of the large metal slide into the kiddie area–that has disappeared), and everything my children could hope for: $1 soft serve cones, canoe rentals with their Papa, swimming to the buoys with mama on the raft, and hot rocks and a wooden sidewalk.