Solitude in childhood

The landscape of my childhood was varied and expansive, bounded by the Mississippi River to the east and north and as far as I could ride my bike to the west and south. The streets in my neighborhood were made of city blocks, which were 1,000 feet by 400 feet in parallel, east to west and north to south. Flat streets, with few hills, so that as a child I could bike a far distance and reach a rural area with farms to the south and still make it back home for supper.

But my favorite place to travel to as a child was the great Mississippi river. It was forbidden territory, according to my mother; a rule that was broken by all my siblings.

I was the fourth child, a girl that followed a 5-year break and a spate of boys. The first time I went to the river alone, I was nine. The walk to the river boulevard was just a few city blocks away, but to reach the river flats, I had to climb down a steep embankment navigating dense saplings and full-grown trees. A travel path had been worn out in spots but it appeared too steep for me. So I traverse the hill like a skier who is trying to slow her descent. I crisscrossed the hill slowly and on my butt in especially steep spots. The thicket was followed by hills of white sand. Lovely hills to hug, fall, climb, and just lie down and play in. When the joy of playing in the sand was done, I removed my shoes and socks in and waded ever so cautiously in the water to avoid the hidden drop offs, tremendous pull of the river, and fish in the river that were bigger than me.

I went to the river that day because of a film I had watched on the CBS Children's Film Festival hosted by Kukla, Fran and Ollie, which featured award-winning International films for children. The movie Hand in Hand was about a forbidden friendship between a Catholic boy and a Jewish girl. They loved the river near their home too. To protect their friendship, they ran away from home, barely escaping a catastrophe on the river in their homemade raft. From this film, I had an earlier awareness of the power and danger of the river that kept me mindful on my solitary adventures.