Originally from Moments by Valerie, a collection of memories (1961-1983), written in 1986 and presented to Larry on their first anniversary.
Vicky and Valerie, Illinois, 1970
Along the Kankakee River there is a certain dirt road in the State Park which leads from an old highway down to the river. Part way there, it crosses a creek (no bridge, one just drives through the water). At this point is a wonderful place where I have spent much time. There is a meadow, divided into four parts by the road and stream. The water is clear and fast and comes rushing in to form a swimming hole just before it reaches the road, after which it divides into numerous small channels winding through a grassy marsh. In one corner of the meadow are overgrown apple trees, remaining from the time the land was privately owned. An opposite corner has an old dump and raspberries, while across the creek is a field with milkweed. The final corner is a place of thorn bushes and turtle nests. The grass in summer is always long, emerald, and silky. It is warm in the sun although the wind is often cool. The water sparkles and glistens and makes little ripple noises. The trees all around the meadow give it an isolated, protected atmosphere, where one can lie in the grass, wade in the water, or sit and watch goldfinches flit about.
