Reelfoot Lake Memories

I grew up on the quiet edges of Reelfoot Lake, where the cypress knees rose up from the water like old guardians of our childhood. Summers there felt endless.

We’d run barefoot through the muddy banks, our laughter echoing across the still water. I can still remember the way the air smelled — a mix of fresh lake water, wildflowers, and that faint earthy scent after a summer rain. We’d spend hours fishing off the dock, skipping rocks, or chasing dragonflies until the sun dipped low and painted the sky orange and pink.

Back then, we didn’t need much. A cane pole, a peanut butter sandwich, and the lake — that was enough to make a perfect day.

Now, years later, whenever life feels too loud, I close my eyes and I’m right back there — feeling that soft breeze on my face, hearing the quiet hum of the water, and remembering that sometimes the best parts of life are the simplest.

Reelfoot Lake will always be my home, not just a place on the map, but a part of my soul.