Saturday morning always has a kid-like romance to it for some reason. Bugs Bunny and Tarzan were the things of my early years on Saturday, and during the right months (the ones I remember best) the rest of the morning and early afternoon included chasing butterflies with Bill Blue . . . and usually some baseball at Bill Westenbargers (Arbys) house . . . although sometimes it involved riding bikes down to Kearsley Creek for a morning of fishing for whatever would bite. Of course, Im remembering warm weather months. I think that was in Michigan, although it is hard to recall Michigan and warm being synonymous. Woodstove heat is warming the morning today. I went out to feed the birds and it feels so treacherous to walk across the crusted snow between the house and feeders. Im even wondering if a trip to Family Farm & Home (cheapest sunflower seed) is needed. I am not sure I want to walk over the rough frozen footprints until it melts a bit more, which will happen between now and the 4th (of July). And memories of spring to come arent enough of a promise to melt the crusted snow . . . I need the real thing. A good, hot dose of springtime in full bloom! I know that seeing a bunny in the snow is nice and smiling at the sight of a bluebird warms a bit . . . but I want the real thing. Yes, Im feeling selfish. Are my selfish desires only in me? I dont think so. I am pretty sure there are others who want the heat of spring. Hidden treasure . . . I suppose you read about the couple who found all the gold coins buried on their property. Anything Ive ever found buried has been rusty and belonged where it was! My dad, however found some things with his metal detector . . . a necklace that had been lost by a girl from a family staying next door, making him the hero for them. And he also found an old logging chain. A long one. When he talked to some old neighbors about it, it turned out that it had been lost by those very farmers decades earlier. Unfortunately, there had been accusations of the chain being stolen and relationships had been broken. When my dad found the chain, they discovered that it must have fallen off the wagon back in those days . . . and as a result, the anger and accusations had been false, but had all the impact of reality. Hmmmmmm. Maybe presuming the best and seeking healthy reconciliation would have been better than accusation.
Posted on: Sat, 01 Mar 2014 14:05:45 +0000
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