How about a game of hopscotch across these stream cobbles with a clover chain for a lanyard- -wet feet settling any dispute over who stepped out of the lines? Or maybe we should play follow-the-leader on our bellies, trailing the ants on their various adventures. Or, if nobody’s around, why not play a game of hide-and-seek all by yourself in a wild place that tickles your curiosity but also triggers the electric chill of the alarm hairs on the back of your neck and see what comes seeking? Let’s play pick-up sticks with lumpy sticks or tiddlywinks with living winks. Let’s collect wet marbles, rounded by the ten-thousand-year-old riverbed rock tumbler, and play an old-fashioned game of ringer. Let’s play steal-the-gold on a five acre wooded court in the snow... The gold: a crown of fallen aspen leaves hidden towards the top of the tallest tree. Let’s play full-contact, cross-country, miniature golf, or if you are feeling mellow, a game of checkers: acorn caps vs. walnut shells worn like little hats on frogs and lizards... pieces that move on their own. Or, let’s not. Rather, let’s think of games we could play as we rest in this boulder, sunning ourselves like blue-bellied skinks.
Nature is a Gardener
Plants are her purest expression, spending their days eating sunlight and expelling a dazzling display of scents, colors and flavors. Gophers are just tools to plow the earth. Birds and squirrels sow the seeds. Deer are nice quiet lawnmowers. Owls, snakes and ladybugs? Pest control. Goats do the pruning. Beavers are merely complex irrigation systems, and bees... the hardworking genetic engineers. Everybody does their share of the fertilizing and composting at one point or another, but other than that, I have to ask, “What kind of gardening tool am I?”
“The secret to finding four leaf clovers,” she tells me, “is this- If you look for them, they disappear, but if you DON’T look for them, they DON’T disappear.” She should know, she finds them all the time. "I’ve been not looking for them my whole life," I tell her. “Maybe you haven’t been not looking hard enough.” “Another way to find them,” she tells me, pitying my misfortune, “Is to wait until you feel really lucky- like I just did when that moth let me touch her. Then, you KNOW one is nearby and you find it.” I smile at her, so sincere with sunny freckles, her eyes squinting in the light. I’m feeling so fortunate there’s no need to bother even looking down at the meadow of shamrocks that must be there now, sprouting between my toes.
You can’t break the china if it’s already broken.
Can’t say nothing wrong, if you still haven’t spoken.
If you have no watch, you have nothing but time,
There’s still something to share, if you can’t spare a dime.
You can’t be lost if you don’t have a home.
New hairstyles happen when you don’t have a comb.
Can’t be out of touch, when you don’t own a phone.
There’s nothing to lose if there’s nothing you own.
When you don’t have a means, your life has no ends.
When you love those around you, you’ve nothing but friends,
No knickknacks to dust, if you don’t have a shelf.
When you’re part of the world, then where is your self?