I went for a walk through the eastern part of Queensborough this lovely spring evening, and came across something that touched me. It was an old section of sidewalk, nowadays not leading much of anywhere, on the south side of Queensborough Road just before the bridge that crosses the Black River. When I was growing up in Queensborough (a long time ago), the area that this sidewalk ran in front of was the site of a pretty and historic house owned by the Leslie family. But that house is no more, and the sidewalk is clearly not much used.
There are other sidewalks in Queensborough, quite new-looking; I believe the Municipality of Tweed put them in not too many years ago, and they are perfectly fine.
But I rather miss the old ones that I remember from my childhood, the ones with the weeds and greenery growing up through the cracks. The ones I would walk – going up the hill on Bosley Road to St. Andrew’s United Church, for instance – and, while doing so, try so hard not to step on the cracks in them. (Step on a crack, break your mother’s back – remember that?) It was challenging, because the sidewalks were so old that the cracks were not just between sections but all over the place. Sometimes, for a bit of a variation, I would try to step only on the cracks. Ah, those simple childhood self-imposed challenges, and the pleasures that came with meeting them.
The old neglected sidewalk, in front of the old Leslie place, reminded me of that. A nice memory for a lovely spring evening,