When I think of Red Clay, I remember frequent field trips with my little Baptist elementary school. I also remember my love and interest for Native American history. During the Red Clay tour, they told us about the afterlives of their ancestors that went down into the blue waters in their spring. That wasn't something that I personally believed (or was attracted to), but I was fascinated by their day-to-day lives.
For years, all my school projects would be on a different tribe or a different story or place. My mom would drive me around to different parks and we would learn about it together. It was with eagerness that we returned to Red Clay with the kids.
We squeezed it in one morning before a doctor's appointment for Burl and did some preliminary exploring. We watched the video, saw some structures, learned the history, put our feet in the cool spring fed creek, met the grumpiest front desk clerk of all time, then had a quick picnic.
If there's one thing that my mom can do, it's pack a picnic. She dominated the picnic scenes on my field trips as a child, and when it comes to grandchildren, the options become limitless. She's slicing tomatoes, and Lark is stepping on everything. (Note to self: bring highchair to restrain the big, cute chip crusher.)
I look forward to going another time when we can stay longer and we can hike to the fort in the woods! Ah, what fun to revisit so many memories!
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