A Kid in Rock Land ...

Climbing Rocks in Rock Land

I was thinking, why is it that a hot summer day feels hotter when you're an adult?

Hot is hot, no matter how old you are ... it's the same heat.  But somehow, hot didn't matter, when I was a kid.

It was summer and summer was supposed to be hot.  Besides, there were so many things I loved to do and they were more important than a few sweat beads running down my face.

There were six of us kids and we used to love going to Grampa and Gramma Shannon's in the summer.  It was a ten-mile drive and the whole way there, we planned our day ...

We could go splashing in the river, or fishing on the river in Grampa's boat, or ... we could go to the one special place we all loved more than anything else. We called it 'Rock Land'.  I'll tell you about it, but first, you have to picture in where it was.

Grampa and Gramma's house sat just above the river and the dirt road that wound along the river, and it was nestled right at the bottom of a huge hill.

The hill was nearly straight up and covered with huge trees and house-size boulders and rocks for climbing.  Mother Nature had situated them in such a way that caves had been formed under some of them.

Rock Land days were full of pretending.  We were Indians, or pioneers, living in caves and my brothers were Daniel Boone and Jim Bowie, hunting for deer and bears.

One day, we noticed thick grape vines hanging from the trees above us. We climbed to the top of a rock, grabbed a vine with both hands, and swung out over the hill below -- there was no greater thrill.

Swinging on a Grapevine

All the way home in the car, we talked and laughed, and planned more adventures for our next visit to Grampa and Gramma's.

As I remember, we only had one accident there. My cousin, Bill, who was like a big brother, swung out on his vine one day and right into a hornet's nest.

All of us learned first-hand what the expression, 'mad as a hornet', really meant.  They bombarded poor Bill from every direction.  He promptly let go of the grapevine, fell head over heels down the hill, and broke his arm.

We boycotted Rock Land for a few weeks after that ... but only for a few.

Yeah, summer is hot, no matter how old you are.  But when you're a kid and it's summer and school is out, hot doesn't matter -- it's just great to be alive.

“A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write.” ~CJ Heck

The Climbing Adventure

A Little Boy Climbing a Rock

I love watching a child who is deep in the world of pretending.

You can usually tell they're pretending, because the expression on their face says they're someone somewhere, anywhere other than who and where they are.

Sometimes it's obvious:  rescuing a princess from an evil castle, fiercely thrusting a cardboard sword, wearing mommy's kitchen strainer on their head.

Other times, they might only be taking a little longer to climb the stairs up to bedtime, but you can tell they are into the moment ...

Climbing

(A Preschool Adventure)
by CJ Heck

Climbing-climbing up the rock
through the woods, my hands are locked
on the rope so prickly-prickly
past a pine tree, tickly-tickly.

Climbing-climbing, higher-higher,
muscles feel like they’re on fire!
Through the dry leaves, rustle-rustle,
feel the wind push, hustle-hustle.

A long long way to the tippity top.
Hold on tight or flippity flop!
One foot here, then one foot there,
wish steps in rocks were everywhere ...

Huffing-puffing, not quite there.
Look out! There’s a grizzly bear!
Shhh-shhh, use tippy-toes ...
He’s turning now. See, there he goes ...

Snakes beside me, gliding-sliding!
Need a place for hiding-hiding!
Danger-danger! I can see
the snakes are esss-ing after me!

But no, they’re going in the ground
through those holes going down-down
Oh no, growling-growling from behind!
If I turn, what will I find?

A grumpy-grumpy scary thing?
I wish I had a bell to ring!
It’s getting dark! It's hard to see
the something else that’s chasing me!

Oh my gosh! I’m at the top.
I guess for now, I have to stop.
That was fun. I love pretending
but I wish stairs were never-ending ...

"A writer soon learns that easy to read is hard to write." ~CJ Heck