A Path Once Traveled

As a child, I ran up and down this path thousands of times. There were no wooden steps back then, but slate steps that my father had laid into the landscape as stepping stones.

The slope looks less severe than it did when I was young, but it was fairly steep.

I snapped this photo 15 years ago when I went and visited our family's lake house in Lodi, New York on Seneca Lake.

My mom would have liked the added touch of the whiskey barrel with flowers, and my dad would have enjoyed the whiskey!

I've written about this special place before, but today, as I was throwing out many items from a settled estate, I found this photo and decided that I must photograph it.

It reminds me of a time of P.F. Flyers and white socks. A time of my favorite Danskin shorts and tops, babydoll PJ's, and glass bottles of coveted soda pop that were stashed in our utility room in a divided wooden crate. My mom had the hearing of a bat, and would know if anyone dared open that door and try to sneak a bottle.

It was a time of metal glasses that held the best, coldest chocolate milk on planet Earth, when you really split open tiny boxes of cereal, poured the milk right into the packaging, and ate every delicious bite. Love, love,love.

Childhood. A path once traveled.