Do Not Go Near The Creek( Crick in Binghamtonese)

Next to our house in Nimmonsburg was a creek. That creek gave me many happy hours. Our garage was next to the creek and part of the garage was a building that might have been a store at one time. The building had a ledge that called my name to walk on without falling into the creek.I wish we had a picture bit I do not, bummer. So the ledge wasn’t more than 6 inches wide and got narrower as you went from the front of the building to the back. At the end you had to jump off to a small piece of land, and depending on how much water was in the creek, would get you a wet or dry landing. It could also land you in trouble with Mom. Not just mine, bit my sisters. Remember they have children my age..and the creek called all of our names. We very often had Sunday dinner together, and playtime equaled creek time. We would throw rocks, build bridges and eventually end up in the water. I had a pair of shoes I hated that my Dad bought me..I was glad to get them wet and hopefully ruin them. So we were told do not go near the creek and we know that children are very literal in their interpretation of our parents words. We never did hear them tell us not to go INTO the creek, so why not?