Friday, November 18, 2016
You Can't Make Old Friends
As a nine or ten year old I once went to the woods with a friend. There was a swampy spot not too far in where we caught polliwogs one year, and in the middle of this gigantic puddle was a bit of higher ground where a large tree grew. From the tree hung a thick vine. Being at the slightly age, I decided to swing across the small bit of water separating the tree's island from the rest of the world. It was okay but not very daring and so I got the notion to swing out over the larger puddle. Of course, as luck would have it, the vine snapped and I was deposited directly into the muddy puddle on my backside. The walk home was rather humiliating, although I don't recall anyone but a friend being present, and I was not fearful of my mother's reaction as she was most forgiving in times of embarrassment.
I I turned back toward "home" and rounded the corner, another couple of friends smiled down on me. They are old and ugly eye sores to many, and have long outlived their usefulness, but the Webster water tanks have been a landmark from the time I could focus my newborn eyes to peer out the living room window of my childhood home. One day one or the other of them be gone and I will miss them too.