Where I work there’s this long, man-made lake that surrounds the campus. Some days, when the urge strikes me for a bit of exercise, I enjoy a brisk walk around the lake after lunch.

The other day I encountered this little fellow standing in the water, patiently waiting for dinner to come within reach of his long bill. (No doubt he was practicing his crane technique. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Get it? Crane technique? Er, sorry.)

Understandably, he became a mite nervous as I approached, kinda watching me over his shoulders while still keepin’ an eye out for food. He gronked at me a few times, perhaps attempting to let me know in his eloquent way that this was his hunting spot. (Or maybe he just had a bit of indigestion?)

After a few minutes of standing his ground (or, in this case, water), he decided discretion was the better part of valor and noisily flapped off to a new spot a little farther down the shore. I could almost hear the huff as he grumbled to himself about “that rude interloper”.

Y’know, as far back as I can remember, I’ve always been fascinated by bodies of water, large and small. When I was a kid, my parents had this rustic cabin on a little spring-fed lake up in East Texas. We’d visit as often as we could, and without fail, the first thing I’d do on arrival (after makin’ sure I had my trusty compass and pocket knife – after all, it was a good, er, 50 feet away) was head for the lake.

I’m tellin’ ya, I could spend hours just gazing into those mysterious waters, imagining all kinds of hidden treasure, monstrous creatures, or lost civilizations down there. Quite often, curious fish would nose up near the shore to check out the newcomer, as if to say, ‘Sup, Dude?

Yep, it was great to have the freedom to figuratively stop the world and get off, y’know? I can still recall the soothing sounds of the breeze as it gently rustled about a billion colorful leaves in the trees above. The smell of the water and plants filled my lungs with its uplifting… well, freshness, for lack of a better term. Sunlight twinkled cheerfully from wind-blown ripples, giving everything an almost magical sparkle, like twinklings of light in the very air itself.

Most of all, I remember that delicious feeling of utter… peace. Yep; all was well.

Alas, that was then. These days, I don’t get to spend much time gazing across the waters, although I do appreciate the almost daily glimpse outside. I don’t imagine anything much is hidden under the surface, either, except a few turtles. I guess I’ve gotten a little too busy for that these days.

A shame, that.

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Howdy, y’all, and a big ol’ tip o’ the Monday hat to ya!

Hey, around these parts Spring has pretty much sprung out all over, so to help celebrate that blessed event, I thought I’d share a bit of poetry I’ve had brewin’ for awhile now. It was sorta inspired by this photo of the seed pods from a sycamore tree in a local park. It happened to spark some great memories of summers as a child long ago, and, well, tell me what you think:

Spikey Balls

Memories of my childhood in a less-than-wealthy place;
Simple joys and happiness, and sunshine on my face.

Jumping into piles of leaves, exploring secret woods,
Searching creeks for giant frogs (I’d catch ‘em if I could!)

Together with my faithful friend, ol’ General Joe McLong,
(He was a weiner dog, you know) my bond with him was strong.

The two of us could romp and play with free and wild abandon,
Bare-footing it through grassy knolls with nothing sharp to land on.

Except -

There was this one big sycamore, with leaves of yellow-green,
I’d climb it to the highest heights to see what could be seen.

All summer long its branches filled with green and patient fruit,
No problem while still up there, but when fallen, more acute.

Over time, though, they transmogrified into these spiky balls
And then fell in such great numbers it resembled Nightmare Falls.

They laid in wait to prick my toes once fallen to the ground,
Oh, how I hated spiky balls wherever they were found!

Still, to this day I find myself remembering those times,
Of spiky balls and General Joe and silly little rhymes!

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Hey, I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me what you think! Just leave a comment in the box down there, won’t you? I’d kinda like to try this a little more often, so you never know, y’know?

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It’s just an ordinary unbrella.

In fact, as umbrellas go, it’s actually not really that good. Oh, sure; it keeps the rain off ya. But still; it’s kinda small, and not all that well-made. It hangs on one of the doorknobs on the inside of the doors to my home office.

Every time I close the doors (like when I’m on the phone – or, er, hiding from household chores), I see it hanging there. It’s not that it represents that big an investment (it cost me less than 4 dollars) or that it works particularly well (it’s so small it barely covers the heads of two people – and we’re talkin’ two really close people!)

If you go around the corner, in the coat closet are bigger, better umbrellas galore. There’s one or two that fold up really small, yet somehow manage to spread out to a quite impressive size. I’ve also got two “golf” umbrellas (so-called because they’re big enough to swing a golf club under without you or the club getting wet.)

Yet this one is my favorite. Why is that, you ask? Well, as you may have guessed, it’s because it reminds me of a special time, and a special place: this is the umbrella I bought underneath the Eiffel Tower on the day we visited back in April of 2000. (In case you’re interested, I recommend you read about that fateful day in my story, Ah, Paris in the Spring. Trust me, it’ s well worth it.)

Anyhoo; that’s the real value of this little inexpensive gizmo; that it brings back a rush of wonderful memories of Mrs. MZM and I when we were in Paris. And I’ll tell ya; there’s no way to put a price on that!

When you think about it, it’s amazing the power a simple little object can hold, isn’t it? In fact, there’s an amazing number of objects around our house that are simple little things – things like a stone, a piece of driftwood, or a garage sale purchase – that truly fill our hearts and minds with memories every time we see ‘em. I bet it’s the same at your house.

So What’s YOUR Object?

So for today, let’s share a few good memories together. Take a moment and pick out your favorite item around the house, won’t you? Maybe it’s something that reminds you of a wonderful friend, a devoted spouse, or even a beautiful view you’re reminded of.

Now, down in the comment box, why don’t you tell us what it is, where you got it, and what it brings to mind, won’t you? I’ll leave the light on for ya.