so that I made record time. I decided to detour to Gurdon, the little town of 2,300 where I grew up. My plan was to hike at Gurdon Pond Park, which is now called Gurdon Lake.
When I got to Prescott, 15 miles away, the rain began. When I arrived at Gurdon Lake, it was coming down heavily. I waited it out for a while, watching double-crested cormorants diving i the water. But soon I left and toured my old haunts--the house I lived in for a decade until 1975 (for sale and looking great, a 20s two story railroad lodger boarding house my folks fixed up from the ground up), the Methodist church we attended, and my old primary school. I even drove up Bowen Hill, the tallest place in town, which is, it turns out, not tall at all.
But it was a great place to coast down on a bicycle when I was ten years old.
I had a great afternoon visit with my father, and we watched our Arkansas Razorbacks lose a football game badly. Then while he napped, I went and walked at the Ouachita River. I saw eastern bluebirds, house finches, mockingbirds, a viceroy butterfly, an eastern phoebe, a migrant bird with a red spot on its lower back I could not recognize, and a question mark butterfly.
My father's wife made us a grand fish dinner, and then, as we do, my father and I talked about this and that and lots of civil war history. I am glad I came here today.
I loved the rain, and loved listening to legal seminar on mp3 as I drove.