It’s right by the river…
Growing up, we used to camp. Camp at the Glen. Some of my favorite memories. Fishing just to the side, apparently catching the same fish, over and over, with my little bobber. Feeding peanuts to squirrels. Freezing my bottom off in the water of the glen, which in the South, in the middle of summer still could chill the devil if he went swimming. But it was awesome. The campfires, the seaweed that terrified me, the Spanish moss hanging down the limbs of the big Oak trees. What more could a kid want?
Over the years, I heard my parents talk about some property we had somewhere, but they never specified. Nothing more than that. Just grumbles. Just small mentions. Just some postage stamp of weeds and whatnot, somewhere. Then silence. Secretly, I envisioned some gypsy camp squatting somewhere, because it was left alone. We never went there. It’s just been sitting. Why wouldn’t gypsies take it? It’s ignored. They rarely spoke of this land. It was a scam, yes! It had to be a scam they didn’t want to admit to. It had to be something because it was such a passing thought. An unexplored adventure.
But then again, I never asked them about this. I ignored their grumblings. Mainly because I knew this was something I would have to deal with when they were gone. Kicking out gypsies was not my idea of a great inheritance. I just didn’t want to think about it.
So when I told them my plan of buying an RV, I got the entire story. And no, it doesn’t involve gypsies.
At least, I don’t think.
This land, this property I listened to my parents grumble over was a campsite. We owned a campsite. A campsite large enough for my RV. I was floored. My father told me I could use it. Whenever. However long, etc. It was mine because no one else was using it. And it was within walking distance of the river.
I couldn’t believe it. It was like the universe was confirming that this is the right move for me. Several pieces are falling into place that make me feel comfortable in this decision. I mean, I’ve got a campsite by the river. What more is needed for confirmation than that?
I’m now planning on venturing down there prior to getting my RV to survey the land, and see if anything needs to be done to ensure I can park there. But mainly learn how to get there. I have no idea where it is. I’m curious to see the river, smell the sweet scents of the South and see that Spanish moss again. Maybe I can catch a fish over and over with a bobber again. I’ll have the bread ready for him.
