IN passing through a series I wrote a few years back, I was requested (by a special person) to post a few selections. This one is for YOU!!
Almost 60 years ago, I was a much freer spirit than today. Life seemed without limit and boundaries. Perhaps that was my reality and now it is lost to the mountains of restrictions that time and age places on us all.
During vacations we would get up in the mornings and run out into the street by my house and meet. Bread would still be baking in someones home and the thick full aroma is unforgettable. We would all arrive almost at the same time and start off at the same point we left off yesterday. More than once we would start the day by going to the sandy lot by my house and place our marbles in the same spots as they were the evening before. Arguments would pick up where they left off and - (in that way) - it seemed like one long continuous summer. Uninterrupted, a lovely - lengthy play-time. Bliss.
One summer was interrupted by the unplanned and certainly the unexpected. This interruption happened at the start of our vacation and - as such - the rest of the vacation was spent talking about it.
My good friend "Denchie" introduced me to 'hiking'. And with this discovery came long walks in Cunucus and along miles of beaches. This was an age where "Fast-Food" didn't exist and we hiked with brown paper bags that held sandwiches and bananas or whatever the available fruit was. One of us would be relegated to carrying the "Community" thermos. That was 'then', this is 'now' and I'm still not decided on which was or is a better time to be alive. I suppose it is of no consequence.
We were in the cunucus of Dakota. This area had not been developed at all and was nothing more than a dense woody area with many crisscrossing paths or small trails. We would hike and encounter other walkers that would be using the paths for more serious business such as going shopping or returning home carrying something. In the same way the capillaries serve the blood stream, these small trails served that small area of the island.
While we were moving along and talking in the dense woods of that area, Denchie (Dennis) heard something. "Wanta" "Wait" he said. I stood still. He leaned his head and I did the same thing to try and hear what it is he was hearing. It was the faint sound of pain. We said nothing and started to walk over to it. The pain became so much more obvious. I remember feeling glassy-eyed before seeing anything. Then there it was - A baby goat stuck in the "VEE" of a small tree. The mother goat was standing close enough to her baby to almost be leaning on it and causing it more pain. Hidden in the under-brush and dense bushes were the other goats. An astoundingly large herd - all silent and looking. This small creature looked skyward and pained and the pain finally sank into the two of us and we knew that we were now involved n something beyond what the day had set out to be. However in all that, the solution to the pain was so very simple. We could do what the mother could not - lift the baby goat out of the "VEE". Simple. Denchie went over and gently moved the mother to the side, then lifted the baby goat out of her predicament and set her on the ground.
The day was about to offer us more surprises.
I was sure that they would all make some sounds and run off. We would feel better and be heroes. It didn't happen that way. They stayed and started to slowly move over to Denchie. These skittish and wild animals moved over to him and he knew that something was happening and that this "something" was good. A conversation was silently taking place. He started laughing and knelt down as he almost lost himself in this herd - his new (if only temporary) tribe. I stared. He laughed. He invited me to come. I started to walk over and some of the goats left. I backed off and they went back to this small ring of natural appreciation for another living thing. I'm not sure how it worked but after a few minutes of this "closeness" they suddenly left. I watched as they left their pellet-like droppings behind. Denchie had been sitting in a pile of these pellets himself. He looked down and laughed - I sat next to him in these pellets of love. we were boys and it was uncomfortable but we hugged. I admired and envied him.
Our sling-shots weren't used that summer for anything but tin-cans. We stuck to marbles and spinning tops. When "Kite" season came we immersed ourselves in it. Hiking became a regular thing and although we had discussed and planned how we would handle various situations. We never found any other distressed animals.
It was a different time and I know that I was a freer spirit than I am today. As I reflect on that time, I also know that my life was without limit or boundaries and that the only thing that ever held me back from anything was 'me'. That was my reality and without doubt I was blessed to have lived it. My only pain is that I cannot seem to pass on this "spell" or "aura" to my children or to those I speak to. I wish so much that I could tell you how much I love living here. If you are only a visitor, then I am sorry for you. You will taste this rock but cannot live it nor can you allow her to devour you in the same way as she seems to allow us to live on her and, in the end, take us into her soil.
It is quite possible that at the end of your stay, you are not going back to reality. Perhaps this is reality and what we create elsewhere is the unfortunate.
Wonderful story. ANOTHER day brightener.
JR and your other children may not have similar stories to pass along, but they will indeed have stories.....just as your parents had stories that probably were not similar to yours. I hope your kids the gift of writing gene from dear old dad!
I marvel at your "story telling." They are always so descriptive; makes one feel as if he or she were there with you and your friends; and conveys, how wonderful things were when we were in our youth. Perhaps, reading them, we become "Forever young."