This Walk I Take

I found this trail across from the lake. It is on the other side of the road so I have never thought of exploring it. Now that I have; I walk it everyday. It is a bike path. Gravel. It runs a through the middle of two farms. One morning, a foggy morning, while I was walking it; the field to my left was full of grazing cows. They came to the small fence to greet me. Some were hostile. Have you ever seen hostile cows? I did. They gave me attitude. On my right is corn. Rows and rows and now that fall is here it is all brown. When the wind blows the whole field rattles. I almost had a heart attack one day when three pheasants exploded out of the stalks. If only I had a camera(or a gun). I'm not a hunter but some primal part of me wanted to smell the roasting birds on a spit. On this walk I have seen wild turkeys, snakes sunning themselves on the path(I picked one up once), hawks, and one time a deer in the brown corn. We stared at each other. He had enough and turned and crashed through the field. The path turns. It goes through a shaded section of woods. Many colored leaves carpet the ground. Then I find myself walking along another field where a dilapidated old barn leans against the wind. The path finally comes to a hidden lake. I saw a turtle on a log. I see fish jumping up to eat bugs. And get this: I saw a water snake swimming on the surface. Spooky. This path...I go to it everyday. Most times I don't pass a soul. It's all mine. When I do see someone, I say the obligatory "hello" and don't find relief until their gone. I talk to the animals I see, I talk to the trees that have turned a brilliant red, I talk to the lake, the sky, the clouds. Am I mad? No...honestly...when I'm out there...I have never felt more sane...more together.

BOY AS ANGEL

You can blast me with a firehose of Artic Sea water, throw me in a cold, dank cell and leave me in there shivering and naked for a month and it would be easier than what we go through when it comes to our children. My son...he looks like an angel sometimes. He is deifinitley a descendant of the Vikings; his wild hair, his Icelandic blue eyes. When I was in high school there was a class to teach students ( women mostly) how to manage a home, raise children etc. They were each given a chicken egg and had to take it with them wherever they went. The following day in class, they found out who still had an unbroken egg. The point was to show how attentive one must be and how delicate a newborn child is. Well..my son is not a chicken egg...but man he sure seems as delicate. But he's tough too. He jumps off the top of the monkey bars, he wipes out on his scooter; all with a brush off and a smile. I love him. I love him so much it scares me. I have been searching for a purpose and now I have one. Raise this child! Guide him and be with him and let him make mistakes and be there and listen and let him know that no matter what--Daddy's right here.

Hard Lessons

Man oh man...October comes with rain and hard lessons. Haven't quite reached enlightenment yet. My wife and I...we've crossed over into new territory ( a bad neighborhood, if you will). Look...I've got my baggage too. We're all here to learn, right? Well guess what world? I'm still learning...still forgetting...still stuck. Man, I feel like I've been chosen by unseen forces to complete some mission and Man , I wish I knew what that mission was. My wife, beautiful, blond, Viking--we have reached a place of NO CONTACT until November 5th. My heart is shattered. This is it: we either confront our demons or we pack our bags and say Sayonara to another American Marriage. I still have hope. I know we can slay the beast...I just need to know if she's willing. If not....tune in next month.