Ozark Images: Dusk Falls the Penultimate Eve
On the last evening before we left the Ozarks, we took time to visit the town branch just a few hundred yards up from where it joins South Fork River. To get there, we drove various vehicles across bumpy neighboring farmland. My daughter, Sa-Rah, steered brother John's golf cart. Yes, golf cart. In the Ozarks. But it's a hillbilly golf cart and thus seems to be used more at an all-terrain vehicle.
My son, En-Uk couldn't bear to watch! Well, perhaps a little bit . . .
The moon goddess Diana kept attentive watch on all that transpired . . . though she, too, was partly absent (whether yet waxing or already waning, I know not).
We all managed to reach the creek in a still bright twilight. Shan and Shoshanna evaluate the water's status . . . is it safe? Secure enough for wading?
Shan stands in judgment as brother John takes a closer look. I approach the metaphorical bench.
John's daughter, Crystal, joins the judging team. In the distance rises the partially obscured Salem Knob, though less impressive from here than its vertical height warrants.
As the dusk deepens, Sa-Rah turns to skipping stones . . . and gets her feet wet.
En-Uk and Shoshanna join in the search for flat, skippable stones as the wading begins in earnest.
John shares a father-daughter moment with Crystal as they smile upon the watery antics.
And Sa-Rah decides to finally capture our hearts!
Enter net? Darkness has fallen. Time to return home . . .
Labels: Family, Ozark Mountains
posted by Horace Jeffery Hodges @ 3:14 AM
2 comments
2 Comments:
Happy to see no extensive wading party at that precise place. Might want to check the "out-flow pipe" into what was then labelled 'Miller Creek' (as listed in Reconstruction era maps) currently known as 'Town Branch'.
Of course one would need to recall there was a time when an engineering company called 'Mehlberger & Associates' designed a sewage treatment plant for Salem that was 1/3 the size funded and ultimately resulted in the "big pond" noted in last year's Ozark's excursion. (Where that money went is anybody's guess).
There is certainly some nasal gratification for that past of course. The area around FCH no longer smells like the turd from Hades.
Though I expect no recompense except for "who knows personally" I recall individuals who were 'less than pleased with my Dad' at the time of his death back about 15 years or so because my Dad was advocating FCH partner with OMC. Dad did sell his individual practice to OMC and upon his death there was a name change.
And now. Yes now. I used to think one individual (who was/is) a Clintonian lobbyist was an individual with a very steeply inclined learning curve. Apparently my youthful understanding was erroneous.
And though my admiration for his Dad has remained throughout my life - I share Jeff your reservations with your own concerning that which we both feel in our bones.
I realize now what 'petty' encompasses. I understand why a picture can be removed from a hospital wall. I comprehend that it might take a short-term shallow fellow to finally realize - finally - that just uphill from the creek, fifteen years ago there was a guy you might've listened to then.
No need for a statue now - we get dividends. (But I would like to see the blank spot on the wall filled). Heck, put Errol Flynn there. With an eye-patch.
Personally - dude - I find it moodily hilariously hoo-haw.
Photographic memory my a**.
Hershal Decker
I guess that I missed out on most of that, but I can sense the raw feelings.
Jeffery Hodges
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