Little memories

Take a stroll, if you will,
along the placid shore of Lake Monroe;
Watch the stillness of the water broken by tiny ripples,
and smell the gentle breeze carrying the scent of wild flowers -

Or you may be persuaded to thread a tackle,
sit in the cool shade of an overhanging branch;
Gaze expectantly at the bright orange float,
and quietly contemplate the vigor of the spring morning.

 There, for a moment,
you hear the soft chirping of the chickadees;
where you spot one, the other is often close by -
Jostling in jest and admonishing the industrious chipmunks.

 The little friends of the wind are never far off,
whenever you care to listen;
Titmouses, finches, cardinals and nuthatches
are frequent visitors at our humble feeders.

 The restless-at-heart may hike through the State parks,
of which Brown county is most spemdid in the fall;
Or spend an evening at the tranquil McCormack Creek, to explore
the well travelled trails and relax at the weekend concerts.

Summer hours, long though they seem -
are best enjoyed by driving about.
Take the road off the beaten track - the old 37 highway,
Quaint farm roads around Bedford, and so many more ...

If you must, drive to Tuscola, Il.
not for just another factory outlet mall -
But visit Bowling Green, Rocksville and Otter Creek,
and discover the famous covered bridges.

Fall is without doubt our favorite time of the year -
the brilliance of the oranges and yellows,
a dazzling and stunning harbinger
of what paradise must be.

Take a moment to sit under a maple tree
and behold nature's golden canopy overhead.
Walk among the stately trees near Woodburn and Wylie
to invigorate the mind and cheer the soul.

The cheers echo still in our ears,
from a sea of red in hallowed Assembly Hall -
But perhaps what lingers more in our minds,
is the frigid walk along 17th.

 The cold winter air invokes images of snow covered walkways,
leading to the white slopes of Ski World and Paoli.
And images of a cozy evening,
cuddled up in a comfortable sofa watching the snow falls.

All too soon, the snow turns to slush --
But when the barren trees began to sprout,
the splendor and anticipation of spring returns,
drawing us out from our little hideaway.

A hideaway we have no more,
but in its stead, we find the hustle and bustle
of an efficient society
with no time for the little memories of yesteryears.

Ruf and SE July 20, 1997