Late September, early 1960’s. My Dad, my Uncle Earl and myself were trolling for the year’s last time on the North end of our beloved Pymatuning. As noon approached, Dad, after looking at his watch, announced that we should be heading off the lake and back to my parents’ residence on Collins Drive. The grass needed mowed for the last time of the season…the cottage needed prepared and closed for the approaching Winter season.
We had caught our walleye limit for the day, and the number of panfish that “graced our lines” would become a delicious dinner that evening back in Pittsburgh. Dad and “UNK” would filet the catch…and Mom and Aunt Gerry would coat and fry the filets. The taste and aromas of the cooked Pyma fishes still invade my memory, making my mouth water, especially at this time of the year.
Years later, Carolyn and I would follow a similar regime as we closed our property before our house was constructed.
CHANGES
Back then, the late 50’s and early 60’s, the land and areas of what we now call “home” were considerably different.
Folks and families had realized the incredible precious Nature of the area, and had begun to “move-in” in FORCE! Areas which had previously been rich with the flora and fauna of the natural environment rapidly began to disappear. PA RT 285 was “framed” with businesses on both sides of the road…everything from a “Mom & Pop” store, post office, gas station, ice cream stand, restaurants, bait & tackle stores, to (even) a bowling alley!
The “old” Espyville boat launch and rental was ALWAYS crowded with patrons…and the beach!!!! WOW!! Trying to find an area upon which to cast your beach blanket was a true chore!
AND THEN
With the influx of folks, primarily seasonal, and the widespread and increasing popularity of the Region, the Commonwealth decided to create the Tuttle Beach area, and the extensive Tuttle Campground. What a GIFT to the Region!
Folks could now visit the area and truly enjoy the natural habitat while not disturbing the essence of the environment.
Off season, as Autumn approached, the trees and woodlands could be viewed in their pristine splendor while walking through the closed campgrounds.
This natural beauty and all of its assets, is what I and Carolyn have attempted to maintain throughout the property upon which we built our home. The woods and wetlands remain nearly the same as when we arrived in the early 80’s. AND, this maintenance concept is, I can assure, truly appreciated by the natural residents with which we share the environment.
As the seasons change, the trees and woods shed their prior garments and thrill us with new perspectives.
And the breezes! Whispering through the branches, grasses, and trees echo the memories of Eternity, and of my childhood.
BUT
As the years progressed, despite the obvious Beauty and Splendor of the Natural environment, folks have come and “changed” that environment to suit the whims of what they considered as acceptable. Rather than surround themselves with Nature and live harmoniously, they secede to destroy everything which originally attracted them to the area. Properties have been “clear-cut,” and the trees replaced with suburban lawns which (of course) require complete maintenance every weekend. Traps are set to discourage unwanted guests. Some folks even complain about the calls of the birds, and some persons go so far as to place poisonous feeders to destroy these feathered creatures.
Autumn presents a “special” type of problem. Fallen leaves MUST be gathered, ASAP! Then, usually, dumped on a neighbor’s borderline, or at the end of the road…blocking access to someone else’s property.
NEVERTHELESS
Despite all the tactics which tend to eliminate, Nature ALWAYS wins in the end.
As Hobbes and I travel throughout our area, we have noticed the re-emergence of the environment. A cottage which once stood at the end of a road, now exists only as a vacant hole in the ground. The trees which were totally destroyed have succeeded in reseeding themselves. The natural inhabitants have returned..as have the crowds of migratory birds. The folks are LONG gone, and the remnants of their inhabitation have totally disappeared.
On the same road, a residence which once held a permanent resident, is now owned by folks who visit only twice per year.
The beach area and campground which once invited folks to the area, are now totally abandoned and have been completely reclaimed by Nature.
The house on Collins Drive is simply memory. The trees and foliage that I, and my Dad, labored together to plant and nourish are long gone. Dad, Mom, my “Unk” and Aunt have all journeyed onward. The leaves are beginning to change, and adopt the hues of Autumn.
The magnificence of the season surrounds me as I sit on the front porch-swing and remember throwing Hobbes’ “Jollyball” for him to fetch. I still imagine him flying down the porch steps, running full-speed across the yards, wrapping his lips and teeth around the handle of the ball…and, eventually stretching-out on the grass to absorb the warm breezes.
He turns his face…his eyes meet mine…and his gaze slowly melts into the Twilight of Eternity.
The front door opens, and my beloved wife emerges to join me in quiet reverie. What a BLESSING!
A COIN FLIP
The area can be presented as a “two-sided coin.” To those who love and appreciate it for all of its natural aspects, it becomes a true Paradise.
To those who attempt to transform the region into a mirror-image of suburbia…those folks gradually fall by the wayside and fade out of the picture. Their plans for transformation inevitably fail to fully succeed.
Like the Phoenix of legend, Nature ALWAYS rises from the ashes. The wheel spins round, and round.
NOTHING, no NOTHING ever leaves…EVERYTHING returns, and remains etched within our Hearts and Spirits FOREVER.
“To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season
(turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, under heaven.”
THE BYRDS…
“Turn! Turn! Turn!
(To Everything There Is a Season)”
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