My Mom used to tell me how in her Mother's time (my Grandma Fitzpatrick) - when there were few roads and fewer fences - that a person could skate all the way from St. Vincent to Emerson on the slough that ran between them.
Part of that slough still ran through our northeast pasture when I was growing up; I saw how it would fill year in and year out, especially in the spring, when the migrating geese would use it as a layover for a few days. Even then, it would freeze up, and that's when such stories came up and I learned how things used to be.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Skating the Slough
My Mom used to tell me how in her Mother's time (my Grandma Fitzpatrick) - when there were few roads and fewer fences - that a person could skate all the way from St. Vincent to Emerson on the slough that ran between them.
Part of that slough still ran through our northeast pasture when I was growing up; I saw how it would fill year in and year out, especially in the spring, when the migrating geese would use it as a layover for a few days. Even then, it would freeze up, and that's when such stories came up and I learned how things used to be.
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