On Saturday, July 21st, I set up my painting easel at South (or East depending on who you ask) Chickamauga Creek. I was catching the morning light, putting it to canvas, and watching people strolling along the path. Several folks stepped off the walkway and chatted about my painting, the weather, etc.
One older gentleman told a story of how he learned to swim "right over there" when he was a little boy. He said that "the old road crossed the crick here" as he pointed to the stream's flat bottom. Upon looking closely, I could see the perfect place for wagons to "ford the crick" on their way to market in downtown Ringgold, GA.
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