We went there so few times that it was hard to find every time we'd decide to go. We didn't dare go often because it was too good to be true. There was the fear that if we went too often, others would find out and it would be ruined.
There was little if any sign that anyone knew but just a few of us. It was a long way out of town, so it took a pretty good commitment to go. It killed an afternoon, and there was nothing to do out there but see it. We did have one friend whose parents had a cabin near it, but it was seldom that he'd actually be out there if we went. And his mom and dad sure didn't want to see us trooping up the driveway.
The last part of the drive to see it was all dirt road. That lasted for at least a half hour. You'd be dusty and hot by the time you got there. But the beauty of what lay ahead would cleanse your soul and your body.
We'd park the car and walk for about 15 minutes. We'd often get lost trying to find it. Even now, many years later, I could find almost any place I've ever been. Except this one. I wouldn't know where to start, except for the city and state.
As we got closer, the ferns on the ground would become more lush. The air would get cooler. And then, there it would be. Just as we had seen it last time, but were secretly afraid we'd never see again.
The big gray rocks went about halfway around on one side, and the other side was almost ground level. As you peered over the edge, you could see directly to the bottom, just as if it were only a few inches away. But it was much deeper. You could smell the clean, clean scent of the underground spring that fed this little accident of a pool. It was only about 10 feet across and 10 feet deep, but when you slithered in and went to the bottom, it could have been Atlantis, buried thousands of feet inside the ocean.
At the bottom, you could feel the origin of the water.
The origin of the water.
The origin of the water.