A winding trail and a windy tale. A short little story.

It was many years ago, but I’ll always remember those woods, the image burned into my mind. I always looked with great eagerness as a young boy walking along the trail in the field the lead the way to the woods. It was a bit windy that day and I held my uncles hand as we walked along. My dad was walking in step, reminiscing about stories of past years with my uncle, for many years they had been good friends. Old fishing chaps they were before he had married my mom.

It always seemed like a long walk to me, but I was so intrigued by the sights of random wildlife. On occasion we would see a rabbit, and on that day we did. Stopped and looked at this few month old rabbit that was hidden in some scrub brush, concealed the little bunny thought he was.

The farm had been my great grandfathers, in the family it has stayed for 100 plus years. Full of rolling hills, that had grown over with brush and trees or planted with Christmas trees. The trail met the woods a short way ahead. It was almost like the trees guarded the path so no unworthy person should enter.

Being a windy that day, it blew the autumn leaves about in a swirling fashion. Ahead through the trees I heard the familiar sound that always delighted me. It was the creek. Small and twisting like the path through the field. I always called it the creek where the water run. It was one of my favorite places as a kid. My uncle, dad and me had built a few dams and bridges over the creek. Its one of those places you could photograph for a calendar. For a young boy, it was to far to jump across, but a wide board was just perfect for crossing. Not slippery like rocks or an old log.

In a few months when spring has come, I will take my girls up there to see this little creek I enjoyed so much as a youth. I’m sure the worries will be different for me than they were for my dad. I have to worry about low blood sugars, my younger d-daughters pump getting wet, it’s not water proof like my older d-daughters. But I will delight like my dad did watching my girls take in the serene beauty as he did watching me. Seeing their imaginations spark and the their curiosity run about like a kitten after a ball of yarn. Soon, I too will get to enjoy that creek in the woods once again and remember the many childhood memories.

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About Tim

I'm a blogger that writes about Type 1 Diabetes. I do this because I have 2 daughters with Type 1. I also have a another daughter and a baby boy that do not, I would prefer they don't get diagnosed either.
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One Response to A winding trail and a windy tale. A short little story.

  1. passing along memories and making new ones is such a wonderful thing!

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