



In search of a swimming hole, we went for a bike ride on the path from the parking lot near the Eustis covered bridge. We headed toward North Hatley, then left the path at some nice looking narrow trails, where we parked our bikes in a convenient patch of poison ivy. At the bottom of the path, there was a widening in the river, deep enough to swim in.

A man came down from the other side to let us know that if we touched his side of the river, we were trespassing, and that we’d probably get some infection swimming in the water, perhaps some parasites or an itchy rash. He didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that people swim in waterβ at least not if it’s within shouting distance of his house. I couldn’t actually see his house, and I don’t believe we were shouting, but he was especially vigilant.

Of course the river isn’t perfectly clean. Maybe there’s a sewage processing plant in North Hatley that’s located too close to the river. Maybe farmers’ fields run off into the river. The problem is, I don’t know how to live life and NOT play outside in water.

If I was a child living in Nigeria and my mother forbid me to swim in the river because of the risk of perpetual illness from schistosomiasis, as mothers there do, I would swim in the river. There is no better place to play, and no better place to cool off. It is a sad state of Earth.

Here in the Eastern Townships of Quebec,
where the water is relatively clean and we have chlorinated swimming pools and air conditioning,
I like to play in the river.

We did not get a rash. We did not get parasites. We did not get sick.
The river is still a lovely place to be at the moment.
I.
Iris converses with Brook.


II.
Akiva’s resemblance to me.



1.
I spend a good deal of time photographing very small things.

The kids get extremely annoyed at me for being so slow.

2.
Martin in B&W.

3.
Martin in color.

4.
When I tell the kids I want to go to the Johnville Bog, they get dressed up nicely. Martin can’t figure out why Akiva will put on a suit and tie (or nearly so) to visit the bog, but not to go to a hockey game, but I can tell you: there is a photographer at the bog. Some of the best photography advice I read was also some of the most aesthetically-pleasing parenting advice: always dress your children as if you are going to do a photo shoot.

5.
Tree genetalia
OR

6.
Portrait with younger brother, father, and teenager.

Akiva

Brook, Iris, Charlie

Brook, Iris, Charlie, Akiva

Brook

Akiva puts on the pink jacket.


Then he puts it on again.


Iris isn’t in a photogenic mood, but Brook is.
Lacking photos of my daughter, I present you my daughter’s dog.

Iris knows all the dogs in town, and all the dog owners know her. She’s currently walking an Australian shepherd named Charlie pretty regularly. I gave Brook to Iris for the autumn equinox (gifts on all solstices and equinoxes!), so now Brook is hers. When we go to the woods, Akiva walks Charlie and Iris walks Brook.
Akiva & Charlie

Iris & Brook

Akiva likes climbing and balancing more than Iris does.

1
Iris writes.

2
Martin and Akiva play ball.


3
Iris and Akiva trace shadows.


4
Akiva and Iris make footprints.

5
Martin reads.

6
Akiva and Iris find a pallet; I add logs.

We build a craft.

They set off!

Iris is upβ

and down.

Iris and Akiva push offβ

into the sunset.

Perhaps some year we will hike all the way there.
