Teenage memories
Keep reading. This memory has to do with a critter, not being a teenager. A very misunderstood critter.
When I was a teenager, as was the style of the day, I had long, long, blond hair which I wore down all the time. Of course, every other teenage girl was doing the same thing.
My best friend at the time, Illana, had long, long brunette hair and she lived around the corner and down the street from me in what is now the historic district of Lakeland, Florida.
The streets are crowded with 100 year old live oak trees whose branches shade the brick roads we used to travel in our bare feet. High up in those trees live bats. I don't know what kind they are, but I do know they are plentiful.
Every evening in the summer, being inseparable as we were at the time, we would walk one another home down these brick streets overhung with oak branches; at dusk. You all know the mosquitoes come out in full force at dusk but we had to be home by dark. As we were walking, the bats would swoop down after the mosquitoes and sometimes get caught in our hair. More in Illana's than mine. Maybe because she was a brunette. We would laugh and laugh, never even thinking about being scared.
I was reminded of that this past weekend as I was sitting on my Mom's front porch watching the bats at dusk, leave their homes in the oak trees and swoop and glide through the dusky sky. It was extremely peaceful evening with very little traffic or noise and the bats were thick as the mosquitoes which were biting my legs. I couldn't seem to pull myself away from watching them glide. Maybe it was the calmness which came over me or maybe it was a memory of a simpler time. It sure was nice to go back.
When I was a teenager, as was the style of the day, I had long, long, blond hair which I wore down all the time. Of course, every other teenage girl was doing the same thing.
My best friend at the time, Illana, had long, long brunette hair and she lived around the corner and down the street from me in what is now the historic district of Lakeland, Florida.
The streets are crowded with 100 year old live oak trees whose branches shade the brick roads we used to travel in our bare feet. High up in those trees live bats. I don't know what kind they are, but I do know they are plentiful.
Every evening in the summer, being inseparable as we were at the time, we would walk one another home down these brick streets overhung with oak branches; at dusk. You all know the mosquitoes come out in full force at dusk but we had to be home by dark. As we were walking, the bats would swoop down after the mosquitoes and sometimes get caught in our hair. More in Illana's than mine. Maybe because she was a brunette. We would laugh and laugh, never even thinking about being scared.
I was reminded of that this past weekend as I was sitting on my Mom's front porch watching the bats at dusk, leave their homes in the oak trees and swoop and glide through the dusky sky. It was extremely peaceful evening with very little traffic or noise and the bats were thick as the mosquitoes which were biting my legs. I couldn't seem to pull myself away from watching them glide. Maybe it was the calmness which came over me or maybe it was a memory of a simpler time. It sure was nice to go back.
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