What’s “it?” Well, that is a good question, isn’t it? “It” is different. “It” is yours. “It” is mine. “It” is that one thing. That one thing that you cannot easily put your finger on, but know “it” is. “It” is. Simple. That is the answer, isn’t it?
Early morning cricket calls. Cat curled on the bench. Horses pushed by the breeze. Scooby Doo and Curious George frolic in the house. The dog scratches at the door. It’s nearly 10 a.m.
Dusty roads. Small signs. Cows. Hay bales. The sun sets over the hill. A deer bounds through the field. The kids are quiet in the backseat. Ahhh…
Blocked paths. Frog refuge. Spider’s den. Tall grass. Cool breeze. Laughter. And, the hammock sways.
This was the announcement from our soon-to-be 5-yr-old son. We just crossed the border from Wyoming to Nebraska via a small hwy (20, I think.) The route turned out to be very scenic, but not compared to the sights we’d seen thus far. We stopped at a “point of interest” only to hear our son say: I see nothing. We looked at each other, laughed and continued driving.
The spider disappeared.
The morning began cool. I heard a strange sound. The dog was jumpin’ around. She heard it too. The kids slept. The giant spider played dead. I can’t do the laundry. Damn.
I’ll get back to you.