Bittersweet

Reading a friend's blog about childhood days spent enjoying the "uncreated" (as far as man's hand goes) world made me think back to my own such memories from childhood. I, too, had the luxury of ample exposure to "where the wild things are"...at least as far as this part of the country goes. My grandparents owned 12 acres near the Shawnee National Forest. These acres were forested, except for the small block that was the "living" area. A road, always nearly un-navigable for a car due to the gullies that cut through it, led to the "vacation" property. This was way outside the box of the modern time-share concept. Nevertheless, my memories of the place make a true mental vacation when I visit them:
*playing with a little green lizard that lived around the base of the big tree behind the place.
*lazy wasps in the upstairs windows.
*a tall, heavy, "scary" ladder to that upstairs. It went through a hole in the ceiling that led to the dorm-styled bedroom that was the upper storey of the house.
*matching duck print throw pillows and curtains on the uncomfortably hard couch. Still the only other option were straight-backed wooden chairs. The old folks got the rockers.
*seeing relatives who made me shy, because I rarely saw them; and looking on in wonder as my immediate family spoke to them so familiarly.
*walking alone and unafraid through acres of woods. Now I look back in amazement that I never got lost. I followed the creeks. I'd leap from stone to stone. I learned to be quite nimble navigating...I could spot a "solid" one quite easily.
*standing and staring at the sun on a puddle in the red earth. It looked like a pool of liquid copper to me. I was quite fascinated by it.
*floating flowers. The wildflowers in the glens rose on such delicate stems they appeared to float in the air above the tall wispy grass.
*walking with my grandfather in the evening and in the morning. Learning from him about the different bird songs and about their favorite times of day to sing.

Funny, I don't visit that part of my memory very often. It is always delightful, but sad. Bittersweet is such a perfect word for what it means!