Outside!

(Charleston Falls, as it presented itself to us a couple of days ago)


It seems like only yesterday that Phyllis and I were breezing along in Little Red (car, that is) ... dodging chuckholes and other vehicles ... when I was struck by a sudden thought.


Don’t worry. It was a fairly harmless thought ... and I hardly felt a thing as it hit me.


“I don’t have anything for Squiggles,” I said.


Phyllis looked at me. She does that every time I say that I don’t have anything to write about.


“What about Charleston Falls?” she asked.


Hmmmm ... what about Charleston Falls ... ?


-S&G-


So there we were ... a few days before ... 


We were returning to the scene of the ... er, adventure(s). We’ve been there before ... many times. We’ve walked the trails, splashed in the creek when we missed a stepping stone ... sat on the deck in the meadow, listening to the birds. 


It was such a pretty day, how could we resist going back to one of our favorite spots?


-S&G-


We were headed in the direction of the falls ... when I heard rustling sounds in nearby woods, looked and saw a deer ... actually, about all I saw was the white tail, darting away from us. Evidently the deer had seen us first.


We finally arrived at the falls ... and they were pretty much as I remembered them ... several streams of water cascading over the edge of the bluffs and onto the rocks below.


-S&G-


We just had to go exploring.


Our first surprise ... a pleasant one, indeed ... was that the steep, rocky descent to the bottom of the falls had been improved considerably with the installation of wide, sturdy steps with handrails on both sides.


A second surprise was that the steps on the other side of the falls seemed much steeper, going up, than we remembered them.


We were surprised, too, at how the trail ... which wrapped around the bluffs about midway up ... seemed to be much closer to the edge ... and far, far below (much farther than we recalled), all those rocks ... which seemed to be inviting us to take a tumble.


We stayed on our feet, though, found a point at which the trail would take us back at an even higher level ... but not quite as close to the edge. 


We took that trail back ... and found a bench waiting for us in the woods. How relieved early explorers must have felt when they found such a bench waiting for them!


We sat heavily on the bench and enjoyed the view. Before long I was doing a quick sketch.


-S&G-


Sitting there, I was reminded of the bluffs near where I grew up ... not nearly as tall as these, but bluffs ... where I explored nooks and crannies ... and frightened Grandma by leaping from one of bluffs, landing in a pile of leaves ... then rolling and rolling. The rolling, she said, had frightened her even more than my leap.


She thought ... well, she thought the worst. And now? Frankly, I was afraid a misstep might send me tumbling ... I’m far more brittle now, you know.


-S&G- 


All of this also reminded me of a painting I had done of Charleston Falls ... long, long ago. I remembered how I had included the long arm/limb of the sycamore tree ... as though beckoning the viewer to move closer for a better look.


-S&G-


The question now: Where was that painting?


I lost track of how long I looked for it ... high and low ... until, finally, Phyllis joined the search and ... AHA! ... there it was, right there on an old easel, where it had been all along, and I had gone racing frantically past it ... many, many times.


Oh, and here it is now:

-S&G-


And that’s the way it goes ... when I have nothing to write about.


-S&G-


TODAY’S POEM - Memories! How we cherish the good ones, make them forever ours, polish them, enhance them, store them away, pull them out to comfort us in our old age.




Such is this memory of our grandson, now becoming a young man, but barely a toddler then.




How proud I felt, watching him go to that window, pointing and pronouncing that word with all the authority he could muster: "Outside!"




I just had to write a poem about it. I know ... I know ... it would embarrass the life out of him, if he were to find out that I had posted it here.




You won't tell, will you? Promise? Then here it is:


OUTSIDE!


"Outside!" he says,
tiny finger folding
as it touches the glass
of our dining room
window. "Outside!"


It carries the tone
of discovery, that ancient
"Eureka!" still echoing,
an air of possession.


He runs repeatedly
to the window, pointing
and exclaiming, savoring
this, another horizon
beckoning, a romance
budding, perhaps growing
until he's my age
and beyond, this love
of the outside world.


(originally published in Capper's)


-S&G-


COMMENT? Feel free ... below, if you like. 


Or if you prefer e-mail, that's fine, too ... especially for more detailed observations, to


 rbrimm@peoplepc.com




... and it helps if you put "Squiggles" or "S&G" ... something like that ... in the subject line (just remember, no religion or politics ... please!)


-S&G-


And if you’d like to see what’s up with my other, DAILY blog,  here’s a link to it:


http://rbrimm.blogspot.com/


Thanks for paying a visit.




-S&G-


UNTIL NEXT TIME ... take care ... see ya!


-S&G-


©  2010


AFTERTHOUGHTS ... LOREE, Kansas, is the winner again of the coveted, mystical, mythical Gold Star for being the first to respond to this week's posting of "Squiggles": "Don't you just love it when you think you have nothing to write about, and Phyllis shakes the tree a bit, and bingo! ... suddenly the topic is hitting you in the head!


(I do love it, Loree ... and I've loved it all these years that Phyllis has been doing it. I'm amazed. Without her, I'd probably just be sitting, staring into space)


I'm amazed, too, that Loree found time to dash off an e-mail to Professor Squigglee and me. She said, in part:


"I've been busy the past week or so ... I have 30 years of accumulation that has to be eliminated, given away, or moved with me ... in short order.


"Two large grain truck loads found their way to the county landfill ... at least HALF of it stuff I thought I couldn't live without, but now it's buried under someone else's 'luggage.'


"I'm DOWNSIZING, so that ought to be easy, right? One only takes what is necessary to try and live a somewhat normal life after they move. WRONG!


"There's no cutoff or place to draw the line ... 


" ... nights are filled with nightmares of what to take, what to leave behind, and has me wishing all I had to take with me are my dogs and one suitcase full of clothing!"


Loree, you see, is moving from a farm to the city ... and her downsizing has included tons of tools, riding lawnmower, metal utility trailer, huge dog house, rear tine tiller, radial arm saw ... and many, many others ... including some to which she had a very personal attachment, like antique glass jars and insulators for old telephone poles. But her new location appears promising, and we wish her well as she settles in.


Do stay in touch, Loree. 


-S&G-


MONDAY MUSINGS ... courtesy of WALT, Ohio ... An old gentleman lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work ... the ground was so hard.


His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:


Dear Vincent,
I am feeling pretty sad, because it looks like I won't be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days.


A few days later he received a letter from his son ...


Dear Pop,
Don't dig up that garden. That's where the bodies are buried.


At 4 a.m. the next day, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area ... without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left.


That same day the old man received another letter from his son ...


Dear Pop,
Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That's the best I could do under the circumstances.


-S&G-