New Roads, Louisiana, July 1982
The first time I went to False River in New Roads was in July 1982.
It was a fishing trip off a pier. It was more of an outing than anything else. Just being out there near the water. I loved how it felt to be there.
After that, I did not think about it much. Not because it was not important, but because I did not really have the opportunity to go back. Life just moved on.
I did not go back until 2013, this time with my husband. It was the same place I had been decades before. It felt familiar, even after all that time.
After that, it became something we did almost every year.
It is peaceful there. Sometimes we would just get out of the car, walk around, look around, and leave. Sometimes it was only 15 minutes.
We never made a big deal out of it. We just went.
I have always known it was not really a river. It never looked like one to me. It is still and wide, and to me it has always felt like a place to slow down.
Looking back, it is strange how something I enjoyed so much could go untouched for so many years and then become part of our routine without really planning it.
Now it is a place to go where I feel peaceful.
