Playing Fair and Being Kind

I have been multi-tasking (haven’t we all?); with September just around the corner and my needs to drive back to New Mexico to begin a great project I have been keeping balls in the air, so to speak. I’m initiating AVP (Alternatives to Violence Projects) here in Maine with the Maine State Prison system, as well as painting the trim in my house, as well as collecting material for the AVP work I’m planning out west. I’ve stayed busy and as happy as I can manage for this part of my life. What I am trying to impart is I have not been posting so much lately but I took some time to post this short piece that came alive just a few minutes ago. I like the feel of it. I hope you do too. Peace out!

THE POND

With a splash of cool water on his face he found himself about four or more feet under water and slipping past pieces of weed and molecules of animals through histories of days and days. His eyes opened and he could see the tannin brown of years gone by. His mouth was nearly filled with the stuff, it tasted of dead beaver, dead raccoon, dead skunk and fox, bark from the trees surrounding the edge.

Mindful of the leeches that lived to suck his blood he swam on under the surface. He could feel their presence and imagined them brushing against his skin and imagined them trying to latch onto his body. This pond was mature by pond standards. The water had filled a depression in the earth and when it was as deep as six or seven feet across its total width the plants on the bottom and along the edge were fully established and flourishing. Deer came to drink late at night as well as other denizens of the forest. Porcupines and otter as well as the fox and raccoon came on a schedule of their own to prevent bumping into each other. They shared the resource this way with little interference from each other. The pond held what each needed for survival so privacy was dear to them all.

With a toss of his head and a quick glance in the mirror above the sink he came back to the present. He reached for the towel hanging on the shower door and held it to his face. What a wonderful memory the splash of water brought him. He tasted the pond in absentia.

G. M. Goodwin

22 August 2016