Because life can be a picnic

old enough to remember when cars had tires that had to be patched and radiators boiled over en route up the Lewiston hill. A Sunday drive was the way many families spent time together. We’d pile into the car and drive to a shady spot, tramp the ground until we found a level spot to throw out our blanket, and plop down to share sandwiches or fried chicken.

Free to roam, we’d run, make noise, explore a creek and turn over stones, marveling at the texture and color while filling our pockets. We’d gather cones and leaves for decoration and flowers for pressing.

If there was a radio in the car, it either didn’t work or crackled with every bump in the road, so we often sang hymns or tunes learned from records played on a phonograph at my grandmother’s house.

GALLIVANTING GRANNY

Hazel Christiansen

Sometimes my dad would spin tales about places he’d seen as a young serviceman, his travels aboard a train, or hitchhiking the country. Perhaps that’s where my drive to see the world awakened. His tales of Hawaii and Mayan ruins gave me dreams.

The more I’ve traveled, the more I realize how blessed we are to live in the Lewiston-Clarkston Valley, between two rivers and surrounded with lakes and reservoirs where families can still enjoy a picnic, boat or fish without long-distance travel.

The beauty of grainripened fields, canola in bloom or timbered hillsides is ours to enjoy. Wildlife is often found in our own yard. This summer I saw a young deer mowing the cemetery on Normal Hill. Osprey, geese, ducks and pelicans are seen along the rivers, and birdwatching and identification is a nice pastime to share with kids. My favorite is spotting the red-winged blackbird or a meadowlark. When we look for beauty, we find more of it and we don’t have to travel to find it. So, if I ever cannot walk, I hope they put me in the car and take me for a Sunday drive, maybe even for a picnic when life isn’t one.

Christiansen lives in Lewiston. She can be reached at petpal535@gmail.com.