A wide yawn roused the child from
pleasant-somewhere far away; for a
few seconds the boy offered a simple smile of childish innocence as his
awareness sharpened into purposed focus.
“Aw! Gee! Dad!” He began, somewhat
embarrassed at his lax vigilance. “I guess I drifted off there, sometime." Another yawn. “How many did you catch?” He stretched, then relaxed.
A soft Whisper-wind gentle stirred the still into sparkle blue-white
diamond golden spikes as the sun drifted deep into the western horizon haze.
The boy shivered. Where was his red jacket?
“Your coat is on the deck by your feet,
Son,” Dad informed. “While you were sleeping the wind came up and the
temperature cooled; I covered you with the jacket. Put it on.”
It was early summer, the spring had
sprung and gone away. Directly, across the dancing sparkle waves celebrating a
setting golden shine stood a giant weeping willow tree half-in and half-out of
the water as it clung to shore; beneath the leviathan the lake surface was
agitated with a froth from feeding newly hatched red ear bluegill spawn hungry
for life and sustenance.
“Look! Dad!” The boy exclaimed with
grand enthusiasm meant to educate his father on his ‘nature’ acumen observation
skills as to inform the patron of the find, “the spring hatch is feeding under
the ole weeping willow!” He shook his head. “They always find an easy meal!”
He said the last with comfort pride; Dad
had taught his ward quite well using those words.
Dad reached the handles of the oars in
preparation for departure to the dock and supper.
“Pull up the anchor, Son. I can smell
Mom’s food-fare from here. She sure can cook!”
The boy grabbed the clothes-line rope
which well-served as the anchor “chain” for their little rowboat. He tugged to
pull aboard the window weight from his grandparent’s old house; the iron length
was heavy and mud-coated. He smiled knowing hard work builds muscle. Once he
had the anchor near the surface he “danced” the heavy object up and down in the
clear water to free it of lake-bottom mud. Finally he managed to deposit the
dripping weight onto the deck beside him; Dad had already rowed half the
distance away as the youth spied his Mom and siblings standing on the dock
waving “Welcome!” to their seafaring “men” returning from the adventure.
Fifty years would pass in the blink of any eye as time marched its never-ending monotony of subtle “Tic! Tic! Tic!” to tally-sum the eon
ages through history to build waiting for no man!
In a sacred memory-lexicon on a sunny
afternoon one fine early summer day a man escorts his young granddaughter to
the lake for any pleasure treat to “teach” the child to fish, but more, to
learn a mentor’s quest informing an Innocence
of Love-awaits in Mother Nature-sweet
and for Life! and Love! emhanced-enjoyed if always embraced in a Treasure! Measure! Pleasure! Adventure
of expected Fantasy! To sparkle light
the sojourn-flight on yonder Whisper-wind!
The girl would catch “22” bluegill-sunfish
to Papa’s insignificant “0”! Dad’s perfect
delight!
Into files for
future purview
Focus
Perfect!-day in review
For I have
been---and am…and may on some ’morrow- future be
Good! Better!
Best! To mentor student-ward for holy adventure-free
“Do as I
do!”---and Please!…Do just-fine as I Life-Love! play!
Focus-Love!---Blossom-Life!...Celebrate
a “Peace!”-bouquet!
That Tic! Tic!
Tic! “Velocity-of-life!” Need cause no evil-strife!
Amen! (I plead!) Amen! Amen!
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