The falls of my youth

(While I did fall for her, she's not the falls I'm referring to.) Yesterday, the Good-Looking-One and I went to the Fox Run Winery Garlic Festival. The winery is located on the western shore of Seneca Lake south of Geneva, where I grew up.


Mmm. All sorts of garlic treats. Oh, and wine, too. (I'm a beer person, anyway, and as the designated driver, did not sample.)


On the way home, I took her on a tour of Geneva, showing her the two homes I lived in there, my church and grade school (St. Stephen's), and the homes of a number of my friends, including two with whom I am still in contact, Dick Grabman and Dave Nittler. She liked Grabman's home: next to the cemetery!


I also took her to one of the spots I used to love as a youth - a small waterfall on Wilson Creek out near Slate Rock Road. It was about 2 miles from my second home in Geneva, and I used to jump on my bike regularly and ride out there. Then I'd climb down the ravine to the base of the falls.



When I was younger, it provided a peaceful place to sit and reflect, to watch the minnows, to just get away from the world for a while. The pool was not deep enough to swim in, but it was fine for wading. Sometimes I'd just walk along the shore, exploring, taking in nature. I felt close to God. I still find myself feeling closest to God when I'm out in nature.



If I lived in Geneva, I think I'd still wander out there periodically. God did a good job.