The Swamp
Swamp, Wetlands, call it whatever you like....it was wild. It covered between 2 and 3 acres of the very far north west corner of our property. Ken W. had told us it was there, but he must have been diverted to some other subject, I didn't know anymore than that.
Shortly before our trip to New England, after being cooped up awhile, I tried to get W or the boys to go out to the site to get some exercise with me. They weren't interested in leaving the warmth of home. So I bundled up and took off with Nony as my only companion. I pulled into our new driveway and decided I would follow the fence that was suppose to follow our property line. It was the first time any of us had walked it.
The ground was frozen and there were patches of snow where it had drifted against the fence. But I had no trouble following the property line. Nony took the usual doggy detours, but never got out of my site. Though a small cock-a-poo and not the big dogs I was use to, he sure didn't lack courage. He took it upon himself to be my guardian and was always close to wherever I was. Ken W had warned us of the wildness of the area. It was rural woods and farmland for miles between county roads that were far apart, and they had problems with feral dogs. Ken knew of a pack led by a wild St. Bernard like dog that had killed neighborhood sheep. So I was alert. I was sure Nony would let me know if we got near anything wild. It was probably foolhardy on my part though. I hadn't even brought a pistol. I just reasoned our 38 acres didn't go back that deeply into the wildness.
Ken had also warned us of something I didn't even take seriously. He told us a big cat had been seen deep in the back area. And many had heard it scream at dusk and dawn. Ken called it a Panther. I didn't believe there could be any such thing in our county in the late 70's. I was wrong about that. But, that's another story for another time. The danger I was in that day had nothing to do with any animal.
When I got to the swampy area, it was obvious even in winter. Suddenly there were no trees. Just scattered brush and bushes sitting in a big patch of ice. The property fence followed the outside border of the ice. If it had been summer, I'd have avoided the area. But stepping on the ice, I decided I could follow the property line and would be able to say I'd circled our whole 38 acres. After crossing some of the area, I noticed that when I moved on the ice, the bushes all across that swamp were being moved by me. The whole sheet of ice seemed to be floating. When I jumped up and down, everything over the 2-3 acre area moved. What fun. I bounced all the way across the swamp.
That was the end of the story till spring. We were working again when Ken W. came for a visit. Somehow the conversation got around to my walk and my experience on the swamp ice. Ken turned white and almost choked. That was when he told us his GrandFather had lost a team of horses trying to drain the swamp into the creek. There was guicksand back there. Ken believed if I'd broken through the ice, they never would have found any trace of me. Ken was serious, and I'd really given him a scare. He called me every kind of stupid. He made us promise to stay away from the whole area.
By the way. That's how I got the C.B. handle of Quicksand. Though I always said that was the long version. I used the short version. "Nobody walks on Quicksand. (Except Stupid me.)"
Shortly before our trip to New England, after being cooped up awhile, I tried to get W or the boys to go out to the site to get some exercise with me. They weren't interested in leaving the warmth of home. So I bundled up and took off with Nony as my only companion. I pulled into our new driveway and decided I would follow the fence that was suppose to follow our property line. It was the first time any of us had walked it.
The ground was frozen and there were patches of snow where it had drifted against the fence. But I had no trouble following the property line. Nony took the usual doggy detours, but never got out of my site. Though a small cock-a-poo and not the big dogs I was use to, he sure didn't lack courage. He took it upon himself to be my guardian and was always close to wherever I was. Ken W had warned us of the wildness of the area. It was rural woods and farmland for miles between county roads that were far apart, and they had problems with feral dogs. Ken knew of a pack led by a wild St. Bernard like dog that had killed neighborhood sheep. So I was alert. I was sure Nony would let me know if we got near anything wild. It was probably foolhardy on my part though. I hadn't even brought a pistol. I just reasoned our 38 acres didn't go back that deeply into the wildness.
Ken had also warned us of something I didn't even take seriously. He told us a big cat had been seen deep in the back area. And many had heard it scream at dusk and dawn. Ken called it a Panther. I didn't believe there could be any such thing in our county in the late 70's. I was wrong about that. But, that's another story for another time. The danger I was in that day had nothing to do with any animal.
When I got to the swampy area, it was obvious even in winter. Suddenly there were no trees. Just scattered brush and bushes sitting in a big patch of ice. The property fence followed the outside border of the ice. If it had been summer, I'd have avoided the area. But stepping on the ice, I decided I could follow the property line and would be able to say I'd circled our whole 38 acres. After crossing some of the area, I noticed that when I moved on the ice, the bushes all across that swamp were being moved by me. The whole sheet of ice seemed to be floating. When I jumped up and down, everything over the 2-3 acre area moved. What fun. I bounced all the way across the swamp.
That was the end of the story till spring. We were working again when Ken W. came for a visit. Somehow the conversation got around to my walk and my experience on the swamp ice. Ken turned white and almost choked. That was when he told us his GrandFather had lost a team of horses trying to drain the swamp into the creek. There was guicksand back there. Ken believed if I'd broken through the ice, they never would have found any trace of me. Ken was serious, and I'd really given him a scare. He called me every kind of stupid. He made us promise to stay away from the whole area.
By the way. That's how I got the C.B. handle of Quicksand. Though I always said that was the long version. I used the short version. "Nobody walks on Quicksand. (Except Stupid me.)"
posted by LeeAnn | 12:48 PM
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