I want to tell you how I learned to
swim, but first I shall invoke some memories of where I learned. The
date was 1950 or 1951, and around this time – there were polio scares every
summer – we did not go to public pools. We spent some time at the
bay beach near Jones Beach Stadium (Long Island), where I generally played
in the sand. But when we visited Grandma Paula, we swam almost every
day.
Her farm was in the lower Catskills
near the Ashokan reservoir. We usually went to the “Cold Spot” or
to the “Spillway pond”. The Spillway pond was the preferred
place, but its water consisted of runoff from the Ashokan, and in dry
years there was no pond at all. In wet years, the pond was deep and
its current too fierce.
The Cold Spot was always the same,
wonderfully swampy with water spiders, wasps, and reeds in many
different clusters and shapes. After we swam there, our parents
carefully plucked the leeches from our bodies.
Rarely, we swam at “The Weir”, a
great expanse of shallow water. I'm not sure why we generally avoided
the Weir, but perhaps the reason was a retaining wall of the Ashokan
that loomed fifty feet above, shutting out the sunlight on even the
brightest afternoons.
I learned to swim at the Spillway,
rather suddenly, and tomorrow I plan to tell you about it.
2 comments:
very precise blogging!
Gee, I hope so.
Post a Comment