Remember that pond down the dirt road from the old farm house him and Grandma lived in Eastern Washington?
Well, I had a chance to go visit there recently and take some photos and it brought back some memories of when Grandpa and I would go fishing for these little fish that I remember were called Sunfish.
We would go walk down this dusty, dirt road to a small pond that as far as I was concerned no one even knew it existed except us because it was our place.
You remember Grandpa never did talk much but that was o.k. because when he did he always said something worth remembering.
Anyway, we would kick the stones on that dirt road, and we would look at the trees and I would always anticipate the one spot that was always there that was cleared for fishing.
We would just walk-not saying a word and after we caught what he felt was enough for the day then he would say I could skip some stones. That was so much fun!
I would gather up all the best skipping stone that I could find and once in a while, oh yes, once in a while I actually did skip a stone and when one did not skip but just sunk it was no bother because Grandpa would just shrug or some such and not pay it no mind and say something about getting on back to clean our catch for the day.
We would have a nice leisurely walk back, kicking stones along the way on that dusty, dirt road and I would watch the trees sway. The cool breeze felt so good on those hot summer days in Eastern Washington in the late afternoon as we walked from the pond back to Grandpa and Grandma’s farmhouse.