Summer is going by quickly.  It didn’t seem that way a month ago.  At that point, I purchased a white board so that we could do a countdown to the first day of school.  It seemed eons away, but now we’re almost at the 20 day mark, and I’m about to eat crow.  I’m a little sad that I technically only have 3 weeks total of summer vacation left.   I’m hearing you all say, “I told you so”.   Especially those of you who have told me to savor the days as they will be gone soon.

In my effort to soak up the last few days of summer, I’ve taken my boys on some adventures over the past week.   We tried a new hiking group, picked blackberries, and most recently spent a cooler morning at Campbell’s Covered Bridge in Northeastern Greenville County.

My original intent was to snap some pics of my kiddos, being the amateur photographer that I am.   The bridge is gorgeous and the scenery surrounding it just breathtaking especially in the fall months.   It offers a serenity that’s becoming nearly impossible to find in this day and time and even gives me a sense of nostalgia as I grew up playing in the woods and creeks.   Speaking of creeks, Beaverdam Creek which runs directly under the bridge was easily the best part of the journey for both of my boys.   Thankfully I thought ahead for that scenario and came prepared with towels and a change of clothing.

There’s something peaceful about a creek, the sounds, the rhythm of the water as it stumbles over all of the rocks in its path.   I love a good creek.   They’re refreshing , cool and in most cases sparkling.   They offer a great way for a quick cool off without a complete soaking unless you’re my two children.

What started out as throwing sticks and stones into the babbling waters, soon turned into no socks and shoes and a trek through the creek.   Davey immediately took off after discarding his socks and shoes, and slipped on the first rock and went right into the water.   My heart skipped a beat.   Was he hurt?  Was he going to start crying?   Would he want to leave this beautiful place to go back home to his toys and television?   I held my breath as he stood up from the water, his clothes dripping wet, arms stretched out as if was going to take flight, and then he laughed.   He threw his head back and laughed a laugh I haven’t heard from him.   Henry, usually the more daring of my two children, stayed back and yelled, “be careful, D.”

Davey kicked and splashed water.  He pulled up pebbles and caught some leaves, and even tried to sneak up on a couple of dragonflies cooling themselves in the stiller section of the water.   Henry, after slipping once, didn’t seem to want much to do with the water anymore, which disappointed me tremendously.   So we found a nice dry rock in the middle of the creek and Henry and I took up residence on it, him sliding over occasionally to sit in the flowing water while Davey went up and down the creek bed.

I sat peacefully, a smile upon my face as I watched my two boys, one sitting in the running waters, the other inspecting every inch of the creek, from the various rocks, washed smooth of their jagged edges thanks to years and years of the creek flow, to the flowers that were smiling back at us from alongside the creek.   Davey would walk over to the water in one section, as it danced back and forth over rocks while rolling towards him, and with his hands cupped at the bottom, he would fill his hands with water and then throw it into the air.   I loved his laughter.  I loved his excitement and inquisitive nature.    To see the creek through his eyes?   Now that would be sight.

It became apparent, shortly thereafter that Henry would be best without his clothing and just a diaper which of coursed meant Davey wanted to be free of his clothing as well and run around in his underwear.   So, there we were, my two little redneck children and I, skipping around in the waters of Beaverdam Creek in their underwear, reminding me easily of the little things in life that seem to matter most.

We only stayed an hour as a few thunderclouds rolled in, forcing an early evacuation of a place that my boys want to visit every single day now.   Yeah, going there added extra effort on to me.   We could have gone home, where the boys would have been dry and clean, watched some television and just hung out of for the day OR we could just get ourselves covered in some silt, mud, and wet leaves and a treasury of memories moving forward.   I vote for the extra work, especially since it made me feel like a kid again.  When was the last time I stuck my toes in a creek?