Life for me did not really begin until I was around six years old when my family and I moved to the swampy confines of East Texas. My parents, having grown weary of the cement and city life of Dallas, Texas, decided a fishing camp nestled among the cypress trees of Caddo Lake was a better choice for us.
I remember my first day well; it seems like only yesterday. I can still clearly see the very moment I wish to share with you. I was sitting under the biggest pine tree I had ever seen anchored near the river’s edge, still within sight of my parents’ watchful eye, as they stood in front of the newly purchased camp store surveying their new domain. The view from my shaded canopy was utterly breathtaking. The newly discovered sights, sounds, and smells were overwhelming. In later years, in the course of my formative studies, I would learn the meaning of the word, “sublime” and have always considered this very moment as its purest definition.
The contemplation of my new surroundings was interrupted only by school, chores, and the late evening summons to the dinner table. I spent the time in between exploring all that I could within earshot of my Dad’s voice. I was a boy living along the river shore of Caddo Lake—which provided just about all I could ever want: water, woods, and a little work.