Fielder's Choice

Thank God for the beautiful weather the past two weekends.

It has brought some joy to my life during these uncertain times.

A couple of Saturdays ago, Erin and I drove to Chewalla Lake, located about eight miles from Holly Springs just off Higdon Road.

It wasn't our first trip there. In fact, six years ago about this same time of year, I wrote a similar column about Erin and I enjoying a walk at Chewalla. She was in the sixth grade then. Now she's a senior.

Saturday, March 28, as we drove into the park area, we noticed lots of pickups with trailers in the parking lot.

As we got out and started walking, we saw several boats in the distance ­ a great day for fishing, no doubt. We also saw folks fishing from the bank, in lawn chairs.

It was simply a wonderful day to be outside and enjoy a part of God's creation.

Erin and I walked the trail near the lake and shared lots of smiles and good conversation. We did a lot of reminiscing and lots of looking ahead.

We tried to avoid the present, at least for a little while.

And we avoided a few wasps too.

At one point, we found a bench, looked out over the water and took a happy selfie with my cell phone.

On the walk back to our car, I noticed a couple of out-of-state tags, plus Marshall and other nearby counties.

I also had a flashback to when Andy was a senior, and my good friend, the late Ronnie Day, took photos of Andy at Chewalla. It was a beautiful setting for photos, and of course, Ronnie's talents with the camera were outstanding.

Chewalla Lake is a tremendous asset to our county. It seems sort of forgotten. But maybe that's just because we seem to be trending away from the outdoors in a lot of ways. We're more into cell phones and computers and social media and all that stuff.

Personally, I grew up in the woods. I was raised 12 miles from the nearest town.

I didn't have a cell phone or the internet. I couldn't text. I didn't have Facebook or Twitter or Snapchat.

I enjoyed exploring, either by foot or trail bike.

We had a small pond on the upper side of the house and a small creek below.

We had woods and woods and more woods surrounding us.

I recall fishing in the pond and skipping rocks across it.

I remember wading in the creek and walking across trees that had fallen over it.

I remember, with my friends, hopping on our trail bikes and riding into those woods. Oftentimes, we'd carry a tent, a flashlight or two, and some food with us, in search of a place to spend the night.

"Mother, we're going camping," I'd say. "We will see you in the morning."

"OK," she'd reply. "Be careful."

We'd go up the mountain near my house and camp on top. Or we'd ride a trail out back of the house and end up near the creek.

These uncertain times make me cherish those times even more.

Those were simpler times and in lots of ways, better times.

And those special memories make me want to walk the trails of Chewalla even more, creating more special memories with my teenage daughter.