The Reservoir – In every community there is some type of open space, park, reservoir.   Growing up in West Hartford CT, we were fortunate to have them all.  West Hartford is one of those few places where small town feel exists, even as it provides all the services that any community could want.  Although the taxes … still worth it though.

• It may be most important piece of land I have ever been on.  The Rez – as we called it, and another large parcel of land, formerly know as “Kurkeys” field, were walking distance from our house up near the Farmington line.  The feel of wind, rain, sun and being free to roam still affect me to this day.   It was just up the street, about 500 yards, cross the road and let your imaginations go.  We were only about 9 maybe 10 years old when the reservoir became a giant back yard, almost no rules, trails, roads, ponds, hills, rocks, trees.    It was all for us, I felt.  We could ride bikes freely, play whatever sport we wanted, pick any hill to sled down, these are not rose colored glasses, this place was great.  I still go back once, sometimes twice a year.

(I need to interject here that this parcel of land, like all  reservoirs are mostly shaped by human hands and machines – It was with great fore-thought that it would also be a park land and that roads, trails and open space would eventually be used for multiple purposes.  That was over 80 years ago, approximately.  Defend open space)

Recently I went to the field where we played baseball, it was diamond shaped, it had a release stream from the reservoir for the back fence.  We played in that field 100’s of times, baseball, football, Frisbee.  There are so many good stories from that field alone it could be a book.   If you cut through the woods where that stream meets it natural cousin, a wild stream, that cut its own course through the land, with steep hills, dirt and rocks, it was heaven for those who liked to play war.  Jump off the top, climb up a vine, (probably poison ivy), cross the stream on rocks, throw dirt bomb grenades – awesome fun when you are 10.

Sometimes the ritual was to ride our bikes to Stop & Shop, buy soda and candy. Ride back up the hill, put the soda in the pond so it would get cold, play ball and take lots of breaks for refreshment.  I would love to put names in here, but do not have permission, feel free to add yours.

When we were kids the WH reservoir allowed cars everywhere, recently I was there and there are gates and fences all w/ designated parking; quite a horrific site to me. (9/11 protection).   The many trails all led you in circles slowly rising to the upper ponds where the water is collected and waits before it is sent to homes in area towns.  At the upper pond there is a little trail that takes you up to the top of the ridge where the view is great and where you find a new perspective.  I have brought my children to these spots before they all moved on to their own lives.   I wanted them to see what made me tick so they could better understand why they tick.   I showed them the rock at the top of the ridge where my grandfather put his initials into the stone.  They could touch and feel the history.   Some people do not care about where they came from or ask the questions of history, they only choose forward.   My favorite word is “Next” – but next needs a foundation.

At 20, I moved to a large farm outside Boston, then a very large farm in Stoddard NH, we owned a hilltop in Alstead with a cabin on it, (the Alstead stories are great), we now have 35 acres of playground –  trails, a tractor, and a chainsaw – we are powered by the sun and heated by wood.   My wife of a 100 years or so grew up in a similar way, small town next to a lot of land that eventually became open space.   We were both fortunate, gave our children more of the same and now grandchildren are sharing in that world.  Land, open space and childhood –

The WH reservoir helped with my foundation, a lot.  I hope it loses its fences soon.