Strawberry, Utah

Here are some stories that are taken from my memories of life in Strawberry, Utah.  If you want to get the whole experience please listen to the song below while reading, I feel like it appropriately conveys the feeling of these memories.

            When I was really young, my family and I lived in Strawberry, Utah for an un-determined amount of time.  In my memory it remains a mysterious and magical place. I was about three or four years old when I lived there and so my memories are snippets in a fog that fades in and out.

[Found on google images, search: strawberry, utah]

            My parents were the managers of a campground that was located next to a lake.  My dad would clean the boats for some extra money while I searched for fishing sinkers like they were lost treasures.  I had two friends who were my age and we would roam freely around the lake playing hide and seek and eating grilled cheese sandwiches under the staircase in the restaurant (their grandparents were the owners of the restaurant).

            

[Found on google images, search: strawberry, utah]

            My mom had the wonderful job of walking around the campground to make sure that the visitors were being lawful.  A lot of times they would park on the grass and my mom would have to make sure that they did not because it would kill the grass. I would ride my tricycle alongside her and I think that it was my job to be super cute in order to keep the visitors from getting mad at mom.

            In addition to making sure that the visitors followed the rules, my mom also had the dirty task of knocking down the swallows nests that were built in obnoxious groups around the restrooms.  This must have something difficult to do; I cannot imagine knocking down birds nests because it would probably be killing baby birds and eggs. The birds did not like this either and so our car was usually singled out by the swallows to be used as ‘target practice,’ in other words they would retaliate by covering the car in bird poop. 

[Found on google images, search: strawberry, utah]

            I remember one day in particular, my mom was making her rounds and I was on my tricycle.  My sister was just a baby so she was in the stroller.  My mom left her for a second and during that time my fearless sister managed to climb out of the stroller. She fell into the gravel, splitting open her forehead.  To this day I have a very distinct memory of my baby sister crying loudly while being strapped down to an operating board before they sewed her forehead shut.  In the middle of her forehead she still carries a scar that is shaped like a star.

            As I mentioned before, the campground was located on a lake.  This lake also housed a fishery to raise fish that would eventually be put back into the lake in order to keep the fish population at a healthy level.  I remember walking around the fishery with my dad and he would explain the purpose of the fishery and the different kinds of fish that grew up there.  I would climb up on the rails and look into the pools that contained the young fish, there were hundreds of them in each rectangular pool.

[Found on google images, search: strawberry, utah]

            The first time that I got stung by a bee I was sitting in my mom’s bed.  I sat there watching a huge bumblebee fly around the room; it suddenly landed on me and stung me for no reason at all.  I know that there has to be more to this story because bees do not just sting people, but my mom says that she does not remember this ever happening.  She thinks that I am making it up, but I promise that I am not. I distinctly remember how big it looked as it flew, the pain of the sting, and my reaction to it (which was of course screaming and running to mom).

            Occasionally it would rain in Strawberry and on those days the grass and shrubs would come alive; it was like living in a lush green wonderland.  One day I was standing at the door looking out at the rain when I spied a pitiful looking creature making its way across the yard.  The poor thing was totally soaked and it was slowly dragging its once fluffy tail along behind it.  Very concerned, I ran to mom and begged her to let me bring the creature inside to let it get dry and warm. “No Lydia, you cannot bring it inside, that is a skunk!”

[Found on google images, search: strawberry, utah]