By Dante Cimadamore

Writing from Los Angeles

On the banks of the meandering Farmington River, leans a mystical tree that was meant for jumping into the Tunxis Mead. In the early days of high school, my friends and I would spend hours launching ourselves from its extended branches. 

The path to get there was never obvious to me. The trailhead was located in the corner of one of the many athletic field parking lots. Then after traversing through a tall grass outcropping one had to intuit the second trail entrance along the overgrown wood’s edge. It took not only an orienteer, but an orienteer with a driver’s license and a day off.

Waiting your turn to get up the tree was never much of a bother. The perilous climb doubled as entertainment for a willing audience who would be rooting for you. As much as we loved a nice clean splash down, we were always prepared to jeer for a flop or near miss of the hanging rope swing below.

As I remember the rope swing was often (understandably) decommissioned or removed by the powers that be. Its construction was crude and ever-changing, but it clung to that tree like our hopes for each and every summer. 

Despite sloppy dismounts, slips, and bruises we would ascend the tree past any usual limits of our boredom. It provided us a place to commune with nature and the moment-at-hand. We were there to climb and fall and that was enough. 

I’ve swirled around above ground pools and splashed across Page Park’s weathering concrete. I’ve run through sprinklers, set up slip’n’slides and fought many water balloon fights with Super Soakers, but they always end in someone taking it too far. (We agreed; no face shots!)

Above all else, getting in a river or lake is the ultimate way to cool down and now, decades later, I look back at all my freshwater access around the city of Bristol and wonder why I ever felt bored or restless at all.

Now summer is soon coming to an end — though here in Los Angeles it will seem to extend forever. Yes, many of the bad things they say about L.A. are true, but I look past it and towards the magnificent giant that is our Pacific Ocean. I like to let it carry me for a little while and feel it climb and fall, and on most days that is enough.

Until next time, / Stay cool, / Get vaccinated, (lol, but really).

Dante Cimadamore, a Bristol native, is a recording artist who resides in Los Angeles. He is the driving force behind Give Me Motion, which can be found on YouTube.