Memories of Wildcat Springs

A Place Called Wildcat Springs Park
When the adult remembers back and thinks to see it through youthful eyes I can hear the spring flowing toward the river and feel the air brush my skin. Yes, my mother did warn me of Wildcat Springs, and, yes, I, her daughter, did not heed her words. So I think it has been so for mothers and daughters throughout time. I wonder if mother’s still warn their daughters of such places.

There is a mystery to such places; perhaps caught in time these places draw us when we are young and do not yet heed the caution that comes with age. If so I am grateful for the magic and mystery that a place like Wildcat Springs provided for the passion of my youth and still stokes the embers of my elder years.

https://www.amazon.com/Growing-Up-Without-Sky…/…/B01F9VLT3Q…