This made me remember a lake we'd all go to a couple times a summer, it was a mile hike into the state park. It had a bunch of huge flat rocks you could swim to and lay out on.
What is it about watering holes that gathers teenagers? Probably something to do with the promise/threat of bare bodies, like in your story.
And those whom we share those experiences are those who know our barest selves. Thirty years later, you pick up with them like nothing has changed, even though things clearly have.
Sounds like an amazing place to grow up. I was born and raised in the mountains of North Carolina and spent my youth on the Blue Ridge Parkway visiting similar watering holes. The friends you make in during this time, in this setting remain friends for life. Thanks for reading the story and for sharing it, Clancy.
This was a beautiful listen, Ben. Being into my 40s now, I so relate to this. You capture so many natural thoughts that occur as we age, and you do so with carefully crafted words.
Appreciated the little preamble context you gave it, too. Given this was from last summer, are you still doing live shows? Were these music and storytelling?
Thanks, Nathan. I’m glad you enjoyed this one. I did more regular performing last year with music, but I haven’t done a proper gig in almost a year. it requires an enormous amount of rehearsal and yes, I did perform some spoken word pieces in those shows which took people by surprise.
I was hooked by the end of the second word… of the title!
“Summer legs” evoke memories in me like you can’t even imagine Ben… or maybe you can? Reading this, which coincides with my writing of my next letter, meaning I’m already lost down old memory lane, puts me right back by our lake, me and my besties, in the dead of night, slightly drunk or stoned, probably both, all of us stripping to our bare skin running blindly into inky black water with Heart singing Dreamboat Annie blaring from an Old Ford Capri - halcyon days indeed….
I don’t need to even say how I loved your story… and this “…I sense I’m not the only one hedging. It’s much harder to shed adult clothes.” That tint of sadness… so very beautiful and true. Thank you…
I'm so happy this one spoke to you, Susie! The territory of this story was definitely written from my memories of growing up in the mountains of North Carolina, so I'm right there with you. Thanks so much for reading and sharing your experience.
” I could always hear them long before I made it out of the woods and into the clearing. Someone was usually mid-story.”
I was shocked to suddenly be standing in the woods of my own home town. Because that’s what great writing does. It takes you there. Thirty years later, you’re lucky you and your friends left years ago.
I did too. You should know that the ones who never left , became the “stone ruins” in the woods .
Classrooms are for learning. But so are the woods. Classrooms are for where others decide what you need to know. The woods are where you discover on your own. Classrooms are where you are taught what to be. The woods are where you discover who you are.
Beautiful, moving story, Ben. I was hooked from your point that young people can't imagine what it's like to be older. I often marvel at how I feel just the same inside as I did as a teenager, but of course, not really. The sensory details make this story so immersive and the audio is so enriching. I gasped at the very moving turn at the end. What a beautiful moment.
There’s something, a smell of tall grass maybe, from my childhood that I hadn’t remembered until reading your story. Thanks for the wistful remembrance and transporting me to your memories — real or imagined. Funny thing, to think about the readers of your story all standing there on the shoreline, dipping our toes in the water your words created. That’s the good kind of magic.
I have a few vivid memories from adolescence that take place around water, something magnetic about it for teenagers for sure. Running into a river at night, the shared bravery that only needs to be felt by one person in order to infect everyone in the group.
Oh Ben, what a beautiful story, I got totally lost in it. There was something about the line, “Even naked, he does this with the confidence that comes from years of loving practice” that, for me, really drove home the fact that while there is certainly a diminishment, of a kind, in aging, there is so much depth to be gained. Thank you. This will stay with me a while ❤️
This made me remember a lake we'd all go to a couple times a summer, it was a mile hike into the state park. It had a bunch of huge flat rocks you could swim to and lay out on.
What is it about watering holes that gathers teenagers? Probably something to do with the promise/threat of bare bodies, like in your story.
And those whom we share those experiences are those who know our barest selves. Thirty years later, you pick up with them like nothing has changed, even though things clearly have.
Sounds like an amazing place to grow up. I was born and raised in the mountains of North Carolina and spent my youth on the Blue Ridge Parkway visiting similar watering holes. The friends you make in during this time, in this setting remain friends for life. Thanks for reading the story and for sharing it, Clancy.
This was a beautiful listen, Ben. Being into my 40s now, I so relate to this. You capture so many natural thoughts that occur as we age, and you do so with carefully crafted words.
Appreciated the little preamble context you gave it, too. Given this was from last summer, are you still doing live shows? Were these music and storytelling?
Thanks, Nathan. I’m glad you enjoyed this one. I did more regular performing last year with music, but I haven’t done a proper gig in almost a year. it requires an enormous amount of rehearsal and yes, I did perform some spoken word pieces in those shows which took people by surprise.
Wow, that's so great. But yeah, can imagine it requires a decent chunk of time rehearsing and preparing.
I was hooked by the end of the second word… of the title!
“Summer legs” evoke memories in me like you can’t even imagine Ben… or maybe you can? Reading this, which coincides with my writing of my next letter, meaning I’m already lost down old memory lane, puts me right back by our lake, me and my besties, in the dead of night, slightly drunk or stoned, probably both, all of us stripping to our bare skin running blindly into inky black water with Heart singing Dreamboat Annie blaring from an Old Ford Capri - halcyon days indeed….
I don’t need to even say how I loved your story… and this “…I sense I’m not the only one hedging. It’s much harder to shed adult clothes.” That tint of sadness… so very beautiful and true. Thank you…
I'm so happy this one spoke to you, Susie! The territory of this story was definitely written from my memories of growing up in the mountains of North Carolina, so I'm right there with you. Thanks so much for reading and sharing your experience.
Thank you Ben. When I read ;
” I could always hear them long before I made it out of the woods and into the clearing. Someone was usually mid-story.”
I was shocked to suddenly be standing in the woods of my own home town. Because that’s what great writing does. It takes you there. Thirty years later, you’re lucky you and your friends left years ago.
I did too. You should know that the ones who never left , became the “stone ruins” in the woods .
Thanks Lor. I’m glad the story took you there. That’s always the highest compliment any writer can receive.
Loved this story Ben. "made me want to be a writer" was a wonderful way of expressing your reaction to the sight of Kris diving into the water.
Thanks so much, David. I’m glad you enjoyed this one.
Wow what an ending with that butt in the water! The tactile helps us feel these characters, Ben. 💙
Thanks, Kate!
Classrooms are for learning. But so are the woods. Classrooms are for where others decide what you need to know. The woods are where you discover on your own. Classrooms are where you are taught what to be. The woods are where you discover who you are.
I couldn't agree more. I spent a lot more time in the woods.
Beautiful, moving story, Ben. I was hooked from your point that young people can't imagine what it's like to be older. I often marvel at how I feel just the same inside as I did as a teenager, but of course, not really. The sensory details make this story so immersive and the audio is so enriching. I gasped at the very moving turn at the end. What a beautiful moment.
Thanks so much, Julie. I'm glad the story struck you this way. It is a funny thing getting older on the outside.
There’s something, a smell of tall grass maybe, from my childhood that I hadn’t remembered until reading your story. Thanks for the wistful remembrance and transporting me to your memories — real or imagined. Funny thing, to think about the readers of your story all standing there on the shoreline, dipping our toes in the water your words created. That’s the good kind of magic.
Thanks J! I’m glad the story stirred up some memories for you. And thanks for becoming a subscriber. That means a lot.
I have a few vivid memories from adolescence that take place around water, something magnetic about it for teenagers for sure. Running into a river at night, the shared bravery that only needs to be felt by one person in order to infect everyone in the group.
Hi Stephanie, thanks so much for reading and for sharing your experience. I'm glad you enjoyed the story.
Wonderful story. I was able to be right there in the scene. Brought back my own memories of our lakeside summer camp.
Thanks for reading and commenting, Tania.
This was beautiful.
Hey thanks, Tim. Glad you enjoyed it.
Yep. Transported. Your stories will stay with me, Ben.
Thank you,Shoni. That’s a huge compliment.
Oh Ben, what a beautiful story, I got totally lost in it. There was something about the line, “Even naked, he does this with the confidence that comes from years of loving practice” that, for me, really drove home the fact that while there is certainly a diminishment, of a kind, in aging, there is so much depth to be gained. Thank you. This will stay with me a while ❤️
Thank you, Chloe. I’m so glad you got lost in this one. It was a special one for me to write last year because I drew so deeply from my memories.