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After 55 years, I returned to the Kelley Farm which my cousin, Frank Duane Kelley (now in his 80s) still owns. To the left in the pasture runs Ward Brook, in Moretown, VT. When I was four or five, I spent an enchanted week there in the old farmhouse with his parents and mine.

We went through a stile in this pasture, which belonged to the cows and to King and Joe, the horses they used to work the farm.

There was a swimming hole among the high grass and wildflowers somewhere in this pasture. It had great granite rocks worn flat and smooth by ancient glaciers, and a tiny pool where water striders walked on water.

I was limited in time. No one quite remembered where the swimming hole was. But I see it clearly, and I have old and faded photos of the Kelley sisters and me, with braided hair, floating in an innertube.

I’ll be back to find it.

Author, poet, freelance writer, rescuer of dogs and cats,
animal welfare advocate, hookbill owner, occasional wildlife rehabilitator, chaser of bugs who just loves photography.

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  • Ruth Lambert
    Ruth Lambertover 5 years ago

    Beautiful capture of an old dirt road and beautiful memories of by gone days……thanks for sharing your story!

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