Breathing deeply I listen, smiling as the breeze caresses my face.
I am always captivated by the joy of children. Their charming delight in everyday amazements like sprinklers, puddles, mud pies, bugs, and all manner of “don’t play with that” things. You can give a small child a string, and he or she will go on playing with it for as long as it does things that they do not expect. A piece of twine is an endless line of discovery. (Much like the thneads in Dr. Suess’s The Lorax). I was watching a little boy one time while his parents were away, and we were running out of things to do. He had already watched a movie, and we had played outside for a while. I decided that lunch was the perfect way to occupy both mind and body for at least a brief time, so we made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and sat at the table talking about the movie. The talking was more akin to a stream of sound effects and indiscernible jelly colored language mixed with the occasional roar for dramatic effect, but it was entertaining and kept him in one place effectively. After our brief stop for sustenance, we pondered over what the next conquest would be. The choices were limited to: the evil emperor (played involuntarily by the baby), the stairs (on hands and knees as a horse mind you), or the kingdom (a charming description of the backyard with the playset as the castle).
"People are often NOT eloquent precisely about what moves them most. Half the time we aren't really sure what we mean, and if we are, we don't want to say it, and if we do, we can't find the words, and if we can, others aren't listening, and if they are, they don't understand... In fact, various failures to communicate can make the richest sort of dialogue, just as the most stunted language is sometimes the most revealing of character."–Janet Burroway.
The damp leaves shuffled softly beneath my feet. Their hushed announcement heard by only I and the gossiping trees. The trees wondered, chattering away as if I couldn’t hear them. why I was there? Why I didn’t act like other boys? Charging swiftly and whooping and laughing and hitting things… They never walked, they ran… The trees were suspicious of a boy who walked.
Her stirring ever breaking like the dawn.