One of the best things about living in the same town that you grew up in, is the ability to back to your neighborhood stomping ground and relive those memories of childhood wonderment. We lived up the street from a woods with a stream running through it and many an afternoon was spent traipsing around looking for old artifacts, crayfish, and signs of wild life. The top photo is of "First Brook" which is a little stream that wasn't so little when you were in single digit age and had to jump over it to get into the woods that lead to the more impressive "Second Brook." Mostly we had to take our shoes and socks off and either jump from side to side if it was dry, or wade across if it was full and deep. There was always the danger of getting a soaker (wet feet with shoes and socks on) that would enrage your mother... so one had to be very careful playing here. The younger kids were content to play all afternoon at First Brook, but at about ten years of age there was a rite of passage in our neighborhood that meant you needed to master the wade or the jump over first brook and bravely walk through the woods until you came to the wide expanse of Second Brook ( as seen in the second photo). Here the water ran quickly over the smooth mud and there were patches of pebbles that would stick up and out of the water where you could literally hang out in the middle of the stream. It was a very cool thing to do on a hot day and for the most part everyone got along pretty well... with the older kids looking out for the younger ones. It was a different time back then... there was no parental supervision ( I don't think they really knew where we were) but there was never any question of safety and certainly no fear of strangers. I still love to visit First Brook and Second Brook when I take my daily bike ride... it is still so beautiful there and the memories are priceless.
