Riding bikes around White Rock Lake when I went to Dallas was very special to me. I felt the humid Texas air against my skin. I listened to the sounds of wildlife turn up as the sun went down. The light as it creeped below the horizon of the lake peeked rays through the soft tree landscape. It reminded me of my childhood.
I was surprised by how many families were there, at the lake & how alive the park seemed. When I was done with my ride, my friend pointed out a firefly & said, “it’s been so long since I’ve seen 1 of those”. “Me too”, I said.
I felt community in that moment at White Rock that I hadn’t felt in years.
When I was young, traveling between my parent’s homes, I would visit family around lakes in Wisconsin. My older cousins would ride boats & water ski. As 1 of the younger cousins, I would swim within the shallow parts around docks. We (other younger cousins as I) would sometimes get in canoes & look for crawfish, turtles & frogs. At night, we would try to catch fireflies.
Life seemed very simple. It seemed like a small place by the water was every family’s goal. If 1 family didn’t have much - they’d just stay with another family by a lake on the weekend. It felt like community - american community. I don’t know if that community exists as much anymore. I know it doesn’t for me. I felt very proud & content.
It felt like community - American community. I don’t know if that community exists as much anymore (?).