Our recent trip took us along the top side of Western MD, into
West Virginia, and then into Pennsylvania before dumping us
into Ohio. Traveling through the Allegheny Mountains brought
up memories from my childhood. We grew up outside of
Philadelphia and each summer we traveled to Chautauqua,
located just over the Pennsylvania border in the far west corner
of New York State. Chautauqua was a place outside of time
tucked next to a beautiful lake, full of stately houses from the turn
of the century. Each July, my dad would pack the car, his wife, the
three kids, the dog into the car and we would head into mountains
that would lead us to sounds, smells, falling rain, that simply did
not exist anywhere else, not like Chautauqua! (The rain always fell
hard and straight down.) We drove with open windows, hair blowing,
on winding mountain roads where we would hold our collective
breath every time we passed a truck, then the collective sigh with
each success. I can remember the light slanting through trees, and
the smells of the forest. I also remember our lunch break where we
ate the best hamburgers in the world and supped on the nectar of a
vanilla shake. Did we eat inside? I don't think so. Did we fight or
fidget in that narrow back seat? Maybe. As the afternoon waned,
Dad would tell us it was time to look for the lake. The road continued
to take us up and down and with every crest of the hill we watched
with eager anticipation for a glimpse of bright blue sparkling water.
It was always sunny, wasn't it?
http://www.hisvictoriousindwelling.com/stories.html
West Virginia, and then into Pennsylvania before dumping us
into Ohio. Traveling through the Allegheny Mountains brought
up memories from my childhood. We grew up outside of
Philadelphia and each summer we traveled to Chautauqua,
located just over the Pennsylvania border in the far west corner
of New York State. Chautauqua was a place outside of time
tucked next to a beautiful lake, full of stately houses from the turn
of the century. Each July, my dad would pack the car, his wife, the
three kids, the dog into the car and we would head into mountains
that would lead us to sounds, smells, falling rain, that simply did
not exist anywhere else, not like Chautauqua! (The rain always fell
hard and straight down.) We drove with open windows, hair blowing,
on winding mountain roads where we would hold our collective
breath every time we passed a truck, then the collective sigh with
each success. I can remember the light slanting through trees, and
the smells of the forest. I also remember our lunch break where we
ate the best hamburgers in the world and supped on the nectar of a
vanilla shake. Did we eat inside? I don't think so. Did we fight or
fidget in that narrow back seat? Maybe. As the afternoon waned,
Dad would tell us it was time to look for the lake. The road continued
to take us up and down and with every crest of the hill we watched
with eager anticipation for a glimpse of bright blue sparkling water.
It was always sunny, wasn't it?
http://www.hisvictoriousindwelling.com/stories.html
