A Walk in Two Lanes

The wife and I ambled with the proud boxer in the lead. The walk covered no more than a mile and a half; we recommend it for a cure of the blues. It takes in a delightful section of old Rockport, the kind we hope that the artists and native can save from modernity.

Up School Street we noted that Emery Drolet was flying the flag of the country from his front door. Emery's new party boat-to-be is several planks nearer launching, we noted in his backyard.

Fences catch the wife's eye. This time it was several on High Street, freshly painted. The brush on a fence improves the property and emphasizes the type. In one compact neighborhood there was variety: white pickets and right alongside, wrought-iron with tall granite posts. Unchanged are these from deep in the 19th century.

Towering fall-splattered maples in the yard of Dr. Albert C. Thomas on High Street greeted us with the freshness of a changing season. No wonder they say Rockport's wealth is in her treees.

We noted for the first time two small, impressive stone lions on the front stoop of Nettie Fears' home, and a simple iron ring set in the sidewalk curving in front of Skipper Walter Church's property, a ring inserted years ago to hitch horses whose master was a-calling.

And here's where usually sharp-eyed Molly was fooled. On the Church's lawn were miniature toy deer. Leash or no leash, Molly made one leap, only to find them to be on painted wood--nothing more. Molly was in a playing mood but the "Bambi's" weren't.

Just beyond, the wife decided to probe an un-named lane. Noting it was aster-bowered on both sides, we came to the conclusion it must be Aster Lane. And so it will be to us.

It is a one-man path between rows of trees, glorified as the sun's rays filter down through the leaves. It looked like a great spot for a canvas. There was even a derelict one-room shack off to one side that offered all manner of interpretation. And in season for the extra hungry, there was a profusion of raspberry bushes. Sumac also crowned the path.

Above us loomed the remains of what once must have been the adventurous retreat for many a youngster -- a tree house. The builders by now are probably grown up and scattered the breadth of the land. The tree and house planks stay as their monument.

The lane had its ending on Pleasant Street where we noted young Johnny Peters and his friend David Fine enjoying exploration of a gravel pile on their bicycling around town.

Thence into another lane, this time one with a name. Spring Lane shoots from Pleasant Street to end at Summer Street Extension. It was carpeted with acorns. It wound up past Dick Ryan's home, with outboard motorboat in the yard, the lane narrowing into a one-way, two-footer overgrown with riotous Fall foliage and lined with a 17th century stone wall.

Suddenly we emerged in the backyard of friend Lewis Poole, the tall sparse Veteran of World War I who used to lead the Memorial Day parades when we first reported Rockport's 20 years ago.

At Ernie Niemi's home were three filled milk bottles on the stoop. Only five hours later we needed Ernie in a hurry: the oil heater had gone democratic on us. And plug or no plug, Ernie, who had arrived home just moments before, came down at once and restored warmth to the household. Aren't small towns just wonderful!

From there down Prospect Street onto South Street, the most startling sight was the grim stump of an elm in front of the old Josh Poole house at Number 38. That elm towered over 100 feet in the air. It was a landmark that had to be felled this year because of the Dutch elm disease. Nature gives and takes.
J.P.C., Jr.