The Swimmin’ Hole

A local place to swim is on a fork of the Pigeon River. I don’t know what the locals call it, but I’m calling it the Swimmin’ Hole. In past years, John and I noticed cars parked there as we drove to Sunburst Falls. Grandson David put it on his list of places to go swimming with his mother. John was our chauffeur, and I was the photographer for the excursion. The chauffeur stayed in the car, reading train magazines. I traipsed along, standing on the shore to record the progress. As I shifted from foot to foot, I remembered it took daughter Kate and David forever to get in the water last year. I have no idea how long it took for them to get their feet wet this time, but from the first photo to the last took 26 minutes. It was a fun-filled time, as they waded over slippery rocks near the rapids and shrieked when almost falling. I was a target for flying insects, flapping my arms from time to time. There was more unrecorded action on shore than in the water. I was retreating to the car in the shade when I took the last shot. Both swam across the deep water several times after I left.

Ankles wet
Over the knees
Halfway in
Swimming!

From the swimming hole, we drove to Looking Glass Falls via the Blue Ridge Parkway. It’s the easiest waterfall to see near our house, because it’s right beside the highway. David waded there, but Kate just watched because she was cold from the previous dip. I waited for them to come up the long set of stairs to take their photo.

Son John $pencer had been under the weather with a bum knee. Thankfully, he was a quiet patient, not inflicting his pain on us. After a meal, he teased David at the table and had everyone joking. When we commented on it, Rose said, “It shows he is feeling better.” Everyone laughed, because we realized Rose knows him well and has him pegged. It was wonderful to have the old $ back.