The Old Plank Bridge in Winter

Growing up in the country there are places that become favorite places when you are young and playing and pretending with friends throughout the year. And when the seasons change, the play changes as well. I did most of my playing with my cousins. Mainly, my cousin Carol. 

I've written about my grandfather's barn with two large haylofts connected by a wooden bridge and the empty chicken roosts empty because my grandfather had to close down his farm due to asthma. I've gone on and on about the chicken coop void of chickens, cleaned out, then filled with the remains of a closed one-room schoolhouse up the road. Those remains included the books, desks and chalkboards. Students were being bussed to nearby public schools. That happened before my parents moved us to the country. (Us meaning my sister, my brother and me). 

The chicken coop void of chickens and filled with the remains of the one-room schoolhouse is where I would play with my cousins most days after school, on the weekends and all summer long. We would even play there on winter days despite the snow coming through the crooked windows, covering some of the desks, even the teacher's desk.

If we weren't in the abandoned chicken coop, we were most likely down at a creek that ran behind where we lived. It was known as Sucker Creek for good reason. Instead of fish, the creek was home to blood suckers. Obviously, we never swam in the creek unless we fell in while on an adventure riding around the creek on our rafts made from telephone poles. Having blood suckers in the water never bothered us, even when we tried to do some fishing with bamboo poles. Even when a few blood suckers made it onto our rafts.

Most of our fishing was done in the summertime when standing on the old plank bridge connecting our grandfather's backfields and woods with the fields of hay, the farmhouse, workshop, shed, chicken coop turned into our Club House or our school full of pretend students or whatever we imagined it to be as well as the old barn with the two large haylofts. It never bothered us when the creek was about bone dry from the sun beating down on those hot summer days. We didn't care. We were fishing off our grandfather's old plank bridge. To us, it was better than a visit to Disney World. Cheaper, too. It never bothered us when the creek froze in the wintertime. We'd get our skates on and go skating, even in the evening when the moon was showing us the way.

The attached photo shows the old plank bridge covered in snow. It still takes my breath away. Everything is so peaceful. Clean. Even the creek grass that is visible is clean. And beautiful. Full of wonder, as if waiting for some kids to come along to play. To jump off the old plank bridge covered in snow. Roll around in the snowdrifts. Make some snow angels.

 Laughing. Giggling. Having fun on a winter's day.