It’s the first of May and here we are in the not so beautiful Georgian Triangle wondering why the foul weather just won’t give up. It’s muddy. The snow is just about completely melted and now it’s raining, again! The ground remains frozen so the rain and the melt won’t disappear. There’s mud everywhere there isn’t a puddle.
I was thinking back to my elementary school days when there was no such thing as a paved school yard. It was such an adventure back then. Our old school yard was full of ruts and gullies where the melting snow and spring rain would flow through the yard.
We boys would have a wonderful time sloshing about in the water and banking up the slush to make dams of wet snow where the water would deepen and sometimes go over our boot tops. We were in heaven as the waters rushed to the one drainage sewer in the schoolyard.
Now in those days, teachers were very strict about playing in the mud and of course the danger of the water itself. I know the teachers on yard duty would just dread the days when recess would occur during the great spring melt.
Day after day, recess after recess the boys would challenge the edict of staying clear of the mud and water. Inevitably some one would fall into the muck or would lose a rubber boot that simply was sucked of the student’s foot.
The girls would watch from their side of the school yard and eventually one would snitch to the on-duty staff member that the boys were knee deep in the muck.
Next stop was a trip to the office where the principal would once again give us the speech about the dangers of the spring runoff. We would listen attentively while sheepishly yet unapologetically looking at our boots, if we still had them.
At the end of the day, our walks home were not much better. We would follow the street curbs sloshing through the melting snow. All the while we were creating many versions of the Welland Canal as we wandered home.
Eventually, we would arrive home, soaked to the skin, boots full of water and slush. Somehow we could never explain to our mother how we got so wet. “Honest Mom, we came straight home.”
The students of today have no idea what fun we had. They are driven to school, allowed directly into the building and driven home after school. Recess is electronic! Where’s the fun?
I miss the good old days when slush, rain and mud were a fun part of life! Today such enjoyment is but a memory.
Still longing for his old rubber boots, Kent Walton can be reached at [email protected].
