What are you?

Are you a flitter? Running swiftly at the edge sprinkler’s reach?
Or are you a diver? Unabashedly heaving headlong into the fray?

The bookstore I man is right on the corner. The school bus stop corner. Everyday the parents of grade schoolers meet on our lawn to await the return of their charges. Everyday the little vibrant hearts pile off the bus, full of energy’s release. The parents gather, the children run, sometimes poking in heads to see what’s in here.

Yesterday I was watering. Last fall persons of unknown character, and for possibly nefarious purposes, made off with our sprinkler system’s copper backflow valve. A key componet. It isn’t fixed yet, so I dragged out the hose and rainbow sprinkler, a Sears model, green of course, circa 1942.

I loved watching the children play and especially how some parents made a picnic out of it all. The littleist ran screaming past as it lifted toward the opposite direction. But soon, the wetter they became, the bolder the play, until even the thought of staying clean and dry was soaked and stuck with bits of fresh mowed lawn.

You could feel the trees and grass soaking it all in: the water, the laughs, the deep spirit. And later, side by side, small wet foot prints on the sidewalk…headed toward home.

What are you?

kenroome

Concord, United States

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