It was wonderful to spend some time in Parishville over the Fourth of July weekend. We haven't been up there in the summer in years, save for a one-day visit to Higley Flow two years ago for the Independence Day picnic. This year, the picnic was rained out, with downpours and thunderstorms forcing everyone inside to eat. We made due with all the kids and parents crushed on the davenport with their heaping plates of ham and potato salad, and everyone else in the living room. As soon as it stopped pouring, though, it was on with the beach party for the kiddos. They all had a blast running into the lake, jumping into the deep (it slopes off quite quickly) and swimming back to shore.
Back at the farmhouse, we flew kites and threw atl-atls with the sun setting in the meadow, and awoke to giant Imperial Moths clinging to the porch columns (we had set our moth trap to lure them in). Haley and Phoebe were silly and excitable about everything, Fisher was taking in the world with his big dark blue eyes, and Aiden just wanted to go fishing. Constantly. He went out in the canoe at Higley with uncle Micah and caught a bunch of sunfish and rock bass on Micah's old fishing grounds, the seven stumps. The stumps are pretty have rotted into oblivion by now, but somehow the fish remain. We also hiked down to Barton Brook to try for brown trout- it was beautiful at the falls but the only thing biting were w few small chub.
On Friday afternoon we went back to Higley for some more swimming and a beach bonfire, complete with s'mores and sparklers. Aiden and Ciara were little pyromaniacs, burning the ends of their marshmallow ticks til they were smoking red pokers, then making smoke rings or drawing in charcoal on every rock and log. The kids were all sandy, sticky, and exhausted by the time it was dark.
Sitting on the porches and staring at the meadows at sunset, or the old cottonwood tree, I felt like I could remember Dad better. This was his place, and it's mine too. And my mom's, and Micah's, and all of our kids' too. I often feel like I don't have a home, or at least not a hometown, that I belong to...I've got great connections to so many places that I love, but the closest to a "home" at least in my heart, is the Parishville farmhouse, woods, and meadows. I can remember sitting on that same porch with dad and uncle Elwood, and hopefully my kids will remember sitting on it with their Hapa and Grandma....and I hope it goes on and on like that forever.
2 comments:
What a wonderful 4th you had in Parishville! Your father lives on with all your exuberance to experience life to its fullest thru and for your children. They will and are the richer for it.
On a side note...we went to a caterpillar exhibit at the North Branch Nature Center in Montpelier. Saw some very impressive 5 inch caterpillars. I can't remember them all but the Imperial was there on a pine bough. Learned that the two silk moths were now extinct in VT due to grocery store lights and an insect that was released to parasitize the gypsy moth. It is indiscriminate and decimated many other pillars. I've never seen any of these in the wild.
Huh..that is interesting about the silk worm moths- its strange that they should be in upstate NY and not New England/VT. We attracted 3 in two nights, and Jeni said she saw one at the camp on Higley Flow too- stuck to the screen door. They certainly seem to be having a good year there. Maybe they just like dry piney habitats? They are very cool looking!
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