Friday, September 18, 2015

Nostalgia Stirs...(Part 5 of 5)




A low moan of icy wind in the hollow eaves awoke him with a shiver. He realized quickly that the flames had died out; dawn had snuck in upon him hinting a dull grey of pale through the window to the east which was adorned with a lace-crystal frost-filigree along either edge of the panes slipping down to course across their bottom. Freshness-Personified! Ah! Sweet Winter!

Stirring, he arose, reverently folded the flag afghan to hang it on the rocker back, stoked the glowing embers in the wood stove firebox with the blackened poker while adding kindling pieces to coax an infant flame to life which he then fed with twigs and small dry branch pieces until it supported a blazing log conflagration extending warmth through a chilled morning air.

In the adjacent kitchen space, the original one-room log cabin which had been added to and remodeled so many times over the years to be morphed into the “modern” edifice it had finally become, the old man placed a pot fresh-pumped of well water onto the gas range lighted burner to heat for morning tea and placed a slice of bread in the electric toaster.. The cattle and other farm critters would be hungry, anxious for breakfast; the chickens were already up, scratching the frozen ground within the confines of their wire pen; at yesterday eve’s feeding of the stock, the feathered flock had previously gone to roost with the approaching frigid dusk.

Tonight, he must remember to examine that wonderful Cabela’s catalog, again.

Within those tempting offerings and combined with a visit from sweet little Jenny? Well? There-in might lay the smoldering embers necessary to rekindle some leaping flames of youth- remembered, and---secretly…desired! He shook his head, smiling at his own romantic-optimism.

Well? Maybe! After all? What be there without---Hope? And, Imaginative wishes?

He laughed. “No!” He concluded, “He was not too old to take up reloading, once more.”

After all, life is for living---and…loving! And, there exists no officially sanctioned: Limit!

Perhaps, within that decided space-continuum of time-existence lives: Love Infinity!

 

 For the Independent Individual! Triumph! I so pray---

(Now, then. just where did I place that new Sportsman’s wish-book catalog?)

 

Amen!
 
(This offering will appear in Station Master, a compilation of
short stories by Carl Schuler to be released New Year 2016)
 
For published works:
visit: Amazon books     search: Carl Schuler
 

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