Nothing makes me feel more connected to the past or hopeful about the future than attending a community event in the small town that has nurtured six generations of our family. Yesterday was one of my favorites- the rodeo parade sponsored by the Caddo Roundup Club. This year’s rodeo and parade were especially meaningful since the club also celebrated their 50th anniversary as an organization. The parade was followed by a BBQ served in the community building by the Town Restoration Association of Caddo. I belong to TRAC and we have served the luncheon each year since 2006. The community building, restored by the efforts of TRAC and other community service groups, was built in 1939 and has been used well and often since then. So you can understand why the day was so meaningful.
Yesterday was also a testament to the willingness of friends and family to rally together and support any worthy endeavor. Our TRAC members have always been joined by the those of the Caddo Roundup Club, Caddo Community Association, Civic and Cemetery Club, Masons, and other interested citizens to put on events. Yesterday the serving line included a member of the Caddo Public Works department. In past years it has included local bank presidents, preachers, and teachers. And best of all, it often includes students from the local high school. It’s especially heartwarming to see our cheerleaders in the parade and the children of our town riding with their parents on horses or in the fire trucks. This is a small town that intends to be here for years to come!
An event like yesterday also brings our older residents together for a day of reminiscing. I looked out at the crowd and saw several who are well over 80. Most are still active in community service and hobbies and such. One was in the serving line next to me! However, for a few, this was a rare opportunity for them to gather and talk. As someone who is just one decade behind them, I was thrilled to talk with them too.
I commented to a friend later that if someone in a small town loves you and chooses you as a friend, you can rest assured that you are truly loved and appreciated. People in a small town know who you are. They remember when you were a little brat or a rebellious teen. They know your family history and they remember things you might prefer to forget. But they also forgive and forget; they give you a chance to be you, not your ancestors, because they expect the same privilege from you.
Yesterday I listened as one of my newest friends, who recently returned here from another state, and one of my oldest friends, a high school classmate, discussed their mutual experiences with a “quirky” resident, now deceased. They each had a clear understanding of her faults, but also a respect for her as a person of value to her family and community. One commented, “That’s how she was.” There is a great deal of understanding, tolerance, and love in that statement.
Small town love…it was evident yesterday, and I was blessed to be a witness…and a recipient.
As most of you know, I don’t refer to myself as a “photographer”. If a label is necessary, I would call myself a “writer with a camera”. So it may seem strange for me to offer photography advice, but people have asked. These are my secrets for taking photos of little things with wings:
I do realize that the images I take are often “different” and more creative than simple snapshots. That’s because I spent years in art classes and also took a couple of photography classes that emphasized viewpoint and angles and such. That’s one of the many benefits of the creative arts and why they should always be taught in school. The training stays with you and affects everything you do in life.
I guess I should also add that I’m a little bit crazy. LOL Last night I went into the kitchen and started to cook dinner. I glanced out the window, saw this katydid, put dinner preparations “on hold”, and went outside to take its picture! Gary no longer even questions my actions…
Nothing says “summer” in Oklahoma like the drone of cicadas. As a child I found them fascinating and I often collected their little exoskeletons to examine. I seldom saw a live adult. This morning I was surprised to see one resting on a jade plant on my patio. Of course I had to take a photo! As soon as I finished he flew away.
In case you are curious about these amazing insects, you can read all about them at Cicada Mania
Gary and I went to the library this afternoon and we were pleased to see several children laughing and talking and picking out books. I also spotted the teenage daughter of a friend. Another friend was tucked into the far corner doing some genealogy work on her laptop. Several people were walking down the aisles. There were a couple more in one of the private reading rooms. And of course, there are always six or more people on the public computers. Our library is a popular place and it makes me happy to see that even in the summer it stays busy.
I didn’t go to the public library very often as a child because we usually lived out in rural areas away from town. However, we were blessed for a few years to have a bookmobile that parked once a week on a vacant lot a few blocks from our house. My brother and I always left it clutching half a dozen books. Even when I was a bit older and we lived farther away, my friend and I rode her horses to the bookmobile.
My mother encouraged us to read. She bought books at the flea market and was always on the lookout for other ways to add to our small library. One year the local grocery store gave away a children’s encyclopedia set. You had to purchase a certain amount of groceries for each volume. I think we eventually earned all twelve. I remember the colorful illustrations in it.
During the school year it was easy to obtain books. There were extra reading books in our classrooms and books in the school library. I was always happiest when I was in school surrounded by friends and books.
I know that some people are very pleased with other reading devices and I also spend a lot of time reading something on a screen. But I hope we never lose our love of real books and that our libraries remain open for those who still enjoy them.
We’ve waited ten weeks to drive along the roads of Hagerman National Wildlife Refuge, our favorite nearby place to commune with nature. Yesterday we were able to drive the main road and two of the side roads. It will be a few more weeks before the rest are dry, cleaned of debris, and resurfaced with gravel where it is needed, but a return to “normal” will come soon. I use that word…normal… knowing that in nature it is a term without a fixed definition. What is normal in one habitat is unusual in another. Healthy growth in one region can become “invasive” in another. The events of a season in one year don’t happen during the next. And so it is with the condition of the refuge. What we experienced last August may not occur this year, no matter how much the water recedes or what wildlife returns.
We have learned to be flexible and to never “expect” anything in particular to be there. We simply go out and enjoy whatever is…
I was enjoying some time on Facebook this morning when it occurred to me that at least six of my former K students are currently enjoying vacations on beaches, either here in the states or on the shores of some other country. All but one will be returning to school in the fall and I found myself wondering if any of them will have to write the standard obligatory essay of my generation: “How I Spent My Summer Vacation”.
My own summers were so similar that I could have written one basic essay and simply changed a few details each year. I spent most days working in one field or another: cotton, peaches, or grapes. I helped Mom with cooking and housework. I occasionally went swimming with friends at a motel pool in our area. I spent a few days with my best friend. One year I went to camp, thanks to the generosity of our church. Another year I went to Yosemite because my friend’s dad asked my dad to let me skip a day of work.
When we traveled in the summer it wasn’t to a far away beach, but to faraway Oklahoma to visit family and friends. We drove long hours, often slept in the car on the side of the road, and ate food we packed or bought at grocery stores. Sometimes we ate at pancake houses. Once each trip we stayed in a motel so we could clean up and escape the desert heat.
I remember only a few trips to the beach, and that was when we lived close enough for a day trip. We went to Santa Cruz, Morro Bay, or Monterey. It was love at first sight and I dreamed of living in a little house where I would always hear the crash of the waves.
Looking back, I suppose my summers were typical of those of my peers. Most of my classmates were children of migrant workers or local farmers and ranchers. I knew only a few boys and girls who didn’t work and I rarely saw them except at church or school.
I understand why I had to spend so much time working. I don’t feel that I suffered any ill effects from doing it. However, I’m happy that my former students are spending their summer in a very different way…enjoying leisure activities with their families and friends. They have many years of work ahead of them and they will cherish these memories of time spent playing.
I'm a retired kindergarten teacher and author with three children and three grandchildren.
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