I grew up in Tewksbury, Massachusetts in a house that used to be a summer cottage in the 1940s and 1950s. When my parents bought the property in the mid 50s the area was still very rural surrounded by forest with a wetland in the back of the house. We used to call this area “The Swamp” and to us it was a wild landscape we used to play in, on and around. As we grew up the area and Tewksbury in general began to be developed with suburbia creeping up around us. All the time though as the forest shrank “The Swamp” stayed the same as it was a protected wetland. It became a bastion of wildness protecting us from encroachment of civilization. Eventually traffic noise and surrounding development drove me to my present location in New Hampshire and a few years later my parents sold off the childhood homestead. Today the area has been completely developed and is totally unrecognizable when you drive by with wall to wall houses, the beloved swamp is gone.
My backyard abutting the “Swamp” with my Dad supervising my nephews as they gather wood for the wood stove.
“The Swamp” in all its swampy glory:
In the winter there were large enough patches of ice for the nephews to have a good time:
