The swimmin hole , let us go there in our minds

If you were able to enjoy the offerings of lakes in the woods, ponds on the farm or blue holes in the creek , then you had adventure. My life was and still is built around when we can go to the spring, the river, the lake , and yes, the bay. When your are young , the thought where you are going is lost in that first swim of the year, skipping school to go , and more than the bra and panties you see with your friends going in too. The favorite spot was the old rock quarry in Trussville, and it was blue green and deep. Getting there was a class in ninja movement as you had to evade the police on the road where it was off of . You were then free to jump 15, 30, and on top of the pine tree, around 75 to the water. This led to tremendous legends of tennis shoes splitting open, hermits living in a cave at the top of the hill near the tree. I was content to jump the 15 to 20 foot range. I was there for the fun, and not going to to be an accident statistic. Swimming and quaaludes did not mix well and life guarding was a chore that I accepted. Richard Raymond thanks me to this day for saving his life. We had several spots and some were used for specific types of gatherings, some more private than others . Some were secret. Those places still exist today and only a handful know where it is . The most important one is where my goddess , or mermaid of the lake in the wood came to me. There was and old Boy Scout Camp that was no longer in use and it had a dam across so as to make the lake. The water was the headwaters of the Cahaba River. Magical in all ways, that lake and its woods. We would go in groups , ride the cable across the lake, drop, float , catch crawdads, and or crabs, depends on who were with . lol. I would go often by myself and enjoy the woods and chill on the dock. Alone. One day, this beautiful dark haired, perfect angel in a bikini , appeared out of nowhere. I was stunned. She was perfect. Sweet. She said she lived over the hill , she was barefooted, and in a bikini. I was thinking this is crazy. We talked, and after a while , she left. It was a like , where did she go, quick, and I was not stoned. She was my mermaid. I go back to the lake , when I travel home, and sit . I think of her and what she really was. It was a true encounter that I will never forget.