Memories of James River
Growing up in the Ozarks, I have so many fond memories of my childhood. One of my favorites was walking along the river road with my family. We’d feel the cool breeze coming from the caves openings.
We’d spend hours exploring the winding trails along the riverbanks. We skipped stones and listened to the gentle hum of cicadas in the trees. The laughter of cousins echoed through the woods as we played hide and seek. We were wholly immersed in the freedom that only summer brings. Each day felt endless, filled with the promise of adventure and simple joys.
Every weekend between Memorial Day and Labor Day, we’d all drive down the narrow path to the back end. There, we would set up picnic tables for lunch. We’d have fried chicken, deviled eggs, chips, pork and beans. We’d also enjoy potato salad, fresh tomatoes, and boiled corn on the cob. Dessert included angel food cake and cookies. One of the first things we’d do was go down the gravel bar and dig for worms. We’d also go fishing for sun perch or small bass, carefully threading night-crawlers. After lunch, Mom would bring a few magazines to read. We’d sit around the campfire in our webbed lawn chairs and chat about what was happening in Springfield. We’d stop at a nearby gas station to air up our inner tubes for the river. One of the best tubes was a huge tractor tire. One day, it floated to our place, so we named it Moses. Playing in the James River was the best free fun. It was incredibly refreshing, especially on the hottest days of summer. We always remembered to lift our butts when we went through rapids or over rocks. We would then walk back to the river bar to do it again. In the afternoon, we’d mow the grass with Grandpa Nevatt’s Farmall Tractor Cub. Sometimes, the days would stretch into the golden glow of evening. The lighting bugs would start to flicker under the sycamores. The river would catch the last bits of sunset. Dad would say it’s time to roast a marshmallow. The air would fill with the smell of fresh-cut grass and a campfire. The steady croaks of frogs from the banks would give the perfect soundtrack for our trip.
The day would end with pulling in the driveway on Stewart street. Unloading the lawn chairs,wet clothes and food. Coming in the house to get ready for bed and a new adventure the next day. We had fun.
