For perhaps 200 yards, the look from behind and well above the 18th green at Boston Golf Club was wrapped in sweet serenity. But when the gaze became fixed on the six people at the tee box – four players, two caddies – there was a rush of warmth that was owned not to the sultry Saturday twilight but to yet another indelible image of golf.

Players stood and studied the uphill tee shot to the final green, each of them holding the club they had chosen. But what tugged at my attention and lit a smile on my face was a view of one of the caddies rhythmically and properly swinging a club to the side.

He had the classic looper’s look – a Boonie hat, some will call it – and everything about his swing screamed a love of golf. Loves to play. Loves to loop. Loves to be around the game. If he works elsewhere, that is his job. But this . . . this is his passion.

As the six of them walked in beautiful harmony up toward the green, it occurred to me that another slice of golf’s great flavor had been embedded within. Some of us embrace the game in quest of a massive drive or a career round or net team victory. There are competitive fires that still burn or friendships that are maintained. Some of that tickles the fancy, but for me, it’s the simple things that catch my attention and strengthen my love of the game.

Indelible memories, each of these.

^ ^ ^ 

Links is where the love of golf overflows and the subtleties might blend in and go unnoticed because you become overwhelmed at the surroundings that are unlike anything we have at home.

Words intrigue me, especially those that are posted on signs throughout almost every links visited. “We advise all golfers not to retrieve golf balls from the beach at this hole,” made me smile as the words were read on a sign at Dunbar GC.

Polite and respectful, not threating like “Stay out!” or “Keep out!” which is what we’d read if it were an American sign.

Yet it was words from a sign at another links that moved me to take a photo. Citing a political referendum, no less, walkers were told “that you stand aside and give golfers priority.”

And that, methinks, is as life should be. Give golfers priority.

^ ^ ^

In the Summer of COVID – aka 2020 – the golf course was a sanctuary, of sorts, and on nearly every visit to my nine-hole home away from home (a Willie Park Jr. beauty, The Milton Hoosic Club) a sight made me smile. Perhaps 10 or 11, the young man had long blonde hair that flowed spectacularly beneath a cap pulled tight on his head and the colorful socks never seemed to match – one red, one yellow; one blue, one green.

Ah, so cool to be young.

On a day when he and two friends were ready to go, and my group was not, per usual, permission was granted for the lads to take the tee.

“How’d we get behind the kids?” asked a playing companion, but my words were delivered with a chuckle. “My call, but no worries. Take a look at them now because they’ll be three holes ahead of us in a heartbeat.”

Four years later the blonde hair is shorter but the strength in Chris Morrow’s game is longer and as a rising ninth-grader he is our club champion and a standout at the recent Massachusetts Junior Amateur.

He’s also surrounded by a small parade of kids his age who have talent – glorious, that surely is – but more importantly they all possess etiquette and passion.

The indelible image is of a kid with cool hair and even cooler socks. What it represents is a game whose future is in good hands.

^ ^ ^ 

It is for another era, this one act that started our day at the golf course left a priceless memory. Arriving at whatever muni we happened to choose, the ritual was to pay your green fees, take your receipt, and head to a metal pole, the iconic spiral golf ball starter.

You had to know the ball you were tossing into the rack, for the starter in his gruff voice would bellow out the ball that indicated which foursome had the tee. My ball of choice was always a Club Special 1 and while never would it be used off the tee, for fear of losing it, it was the ball which got into play when it was time to putt.

Relics of a bygone era at Marion GC, but those golfers of a certain age who remember what they were used for will surely smile at seeing them.

So imagine the smile on my face during a visit to Marion GC, as cozy and delightful a nine-holer as you can find. A pair of metal spiral golf ball starters sit tight to the first tee.

No surprise given the golf pedigree of one of the owners, Jeremiah Daly (a standout golfer as a junior and at Dartmouth and son of the late Jerry Daly, a four-ball state champion and also a Dartmouth legend), but the game’s roots are treasured at Marion. So while green fees are accepted inside, what stands outside is a proud reminder of golf’s past, an indelible memory, for sure.

^ ^ ^

Three years before he would die at age 89 in 2005, the laureate of American golf writing, Herbert Warren Wind, was gracious enough to grant my request for an interview. It was for a story that would appear in “Golf World” but selfishly this was the opportunity to meet an idol, a man who composed many of the most eloquent essays and long-form stories in the history of golf-writing.

Saturated in dignity and charm, the great man leaned in and asked, “Tell me, is Augusta still beautiful?”

My reply started with an emphatic confirmation, that Augusta National was indeed a spectacular vision, pulsating green as far as the eye could see. But details were added, of the many photos in the press building where great respect was paid to those wonderful writers who had graced the legendary Quonset Hut and to my being blessed with a seat next to the great Dave Anderson.

Totally devoid of ego, Herbert Warren Wind smiled warmly and nodded his head. His was a life fulfilled, thanks to so many aspects of golf – the people, the tournaments, the travels, the stories – and what will be a cherished forever are the words he wrote inside the cover to his book, “Following Through:”

“For Jim: I deeply enjoyed our very pleasant talk. You put me at ease and it was a pleasure to chat with you.

Thank you,

Herbert Warren Wind”

^ ^ ^

Indelible images. So good.