There were Sundays when my Dad would pack us all in the Taurus, and we would head down to Cranford, NJ. There, we would rent a canoe, or maybe two. And we would put into the Deleware and Raritan canal. It was fun, but what i will never forget are the family squabbles that would ensue. Whoever was steering would get a lot of heat for his or her inability to keep the boat gong straight. The bowman would start to complain, and the fight would begin.And meanwhile the scenery would pass by. We would pass by backyards, fallen trees, quiet houses, and over the quiet waters. Once and a while, I would put my hand in the moving waters, just to feel the coolness. Birds would pass by, maybe a fish would come to the surface, and our canoes would move slowly through it all. When we got hungry, all of us would stop to eat our bagged lunch of peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches, cookies and a plum. Then, we would head back, bickering amongst ourselves, but still having plenty of fun.
Afterwards, everybody piled into the family station wagon and headed back up to Rutherford. Tired, hot and happy.
1 comment:
dan, what a lovely, poetic snapshot. it certainly captures living in suburban jersey with all the beauty undiscovered. i have a similar memory of canoeing down the ramapo river with my dad and sister. (we bickered, too!) we just walked down the hill, crossed the road and wandered into the woods to get to the river. it was amazingly quiet, serene and beautiful to be in nature, while floating along. tragically, the place where i spent hours and hours of time romping in the woods below the ramapo mountains has been terribly transformed into a sprawling, environmentally destructive housing compound called the ramapo river reserve. i only have the memories now which you so wonderfully reminded me of...
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