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Picture of the day -
August 6, 2006
South Holston River Near Lodi, Virginia
Click photo to enlarge
This afternoon, Cheria and I attended a baptism on the bank of
South Holston River near the tiny southwestern Virginia
community of Lodi.
After the service had ended, I took a look downstream and saw the
beautiful scene depicted above. It was striking how the reflection
of the leaves on the trees had transformed the cool, clear water of
the South Holston
into an emerald pool!
Aside from the fact that it happens to run through some of God's
most beautiful country, there is nothing really special about the
South Holston. As rivers go, it really isn't very wide, deep or
long, nor are there any mysterious or odd creatures residing in the
eddies that line the banks. But this beautiful river is very special
to me nonetheless...
As a young boy, I spent lots of time during my summer vacations
playing along that riverbank. I remember how my cousins Mark, Lanie, and I would hop on our bicycles and head down the road in
search of yet another grand adventure. We would spend hours
splashing around in the cool water and then wade across a "ford" to
reach the "knobs"
on the other side. Regardless of how hot those summer days became -
and believe me, they got plenty hot! - there was always a glorious
respite to be found in the waters of the South Holston after a
sweaty bike ride "down the creek".
And although I was never really into fishing, that activity helped
create many of my childhood memories of
my dad. You see, dad
was one of
the world's most avid fishermen, and he was always on the lookout
for a good excuse to hit the riverbank. Some of his favorite fishing
holes were on the South Holston River, and the one he used most
often just happened to be the very spot where today's baptism
took place.
Unlike most fishermen, dad preferred to fish alone. He always said
the fish "bite" better if it's quiet and the water is calm, so the
last thing he needed was a noisy kid casting a line into the water
every 10 seconds. But occasionally he would make a deal with me: if
I would go dig him a "can of fishing worms" he would let me go along
with him as long as I promised to behave and refrain from "scaring
away the fish".
I was always willing, eager in fact, to dig him a can of worms just
so I could go to the river with him. When we got there, he would
give me a pole and put a worm on the hook for me, then try to "teach
me the right way to fish". Well, I never really learned that
all-important skill, but somehow I always managed to sneak away
after a few minutes and find a good place to play in the water -
well away from dad of course!
Yep, dad loved to fish and I loved to
play in the water. We had a good thing going back then, and those
times were the source of some of my favorite memories of him. Back
in those days, if you wanted to find dad, the best place to begin
your search was right there below the river bridge that spans the
South Holston on Bucks Branch Road!
As I stood on that river bank this afternoon, many of those old
memories began running through my mind - memories of times past, a
father's love, and the carefree life of a young boy who just wanted
to splash around in some cool, clear water on a hot summer day.
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