Part 12

As we sat under the bridge in the soft silence of the autumn morning, we just held hands and watched the gentle flow of the river as it made its way slowly past us. I knew from the start that there was something special about Leah, for as we both sat there not speaking but just holding hands I felt a peace about me that I have never felt before or since. I thought how nice it is to be comfortable with someone without having to carry on a lot of small talk. Not that I minded talking with Leah, but I found it refreshing to just be able to sit silently and be content. I recall with fondness leaning back against the bridge support and watching her eyes dance along the waters flow. Every now and then a leaf would come drifting by and get caught in the small eddy created by the brush and though I could actually hear no music, I felt in my spirit that as the leaf swirled and turned that Leah was composing a classical piece in her head to coincide with the dance of the leaf. Without warning Leah broke the silence and said…”Allen do you think plants and trees feel things like when you pick them or cut them down?”

Always being a bit of a “Tree Hugger” myself my response was swift…Yes I think they feel, and yes I think they hurt and cry out in a voice that we are not able to hear. Take for example, when logger comes in and clears a forest and leaving the land barren and void of vegetation, I feel that not only do the trees scream out in agony, but the very land itself cries…I know that may sound weird, but I do believe it to be true .”

You know she said…I think you are probably right, I too think that all things that God created have a voice. I can’t remember exactly, but in the bible it says that the very rocks cry out. So Allen…do you believe the bible to be the word of God?

One thing life has taught me was to never talk religion or politics, but somehow this felt different with her for I felt a simple peace about her soul. “Yes I said, I do believe the bible to be the word of God, though man wrote it I believe it to be inspired by God through these men who penned it…”Me too she simply replied…me too”.

She then smiled and asked if we were going to the zoo. I said of course we are and with that I stood up dusting the sand off of my britches and reached out to help Leah to her feet. She then asked me; Allen how many times have you been to the zoo and what is your favorite animal?

“I like the all I said”…”NO she replied, I want you to be specific, now what is your favorite”?

My favorite animal huh? Well let me think…if I had to chose I think it would be the ducks at the duck pond…I don’t know why unless it is because I attach it to a wonderful memory as a child. You see Leah, Almost every Sunday after my Grandfather and I left church we would come down here. After parking under a huge oak tree he would get out and walk to the back of his 1953 Chevy, open the trunk and retrieve a paper sack filled with bread crumbs. I continued on telling her with warm nostalgia shining on my face. This would make me feel so good I said; not only because we were going to feed the ducks, but also because after we would start walking up the trail he would remove his Sunday hat and place it on top of my head.” I paused and I just looked at her for a minute feeling and knowing that this was true interest in what I had to say and not feigned. “Go on she said…what happened next”? “Well I don’t know I said with a laugh; you see, after Grandpa put that hat of his on my head I couldn’t see a thing because it was so large it fell over my eyes.” “Go on…tell me more Allen she said”. Are you sure you want to hear all this I said, I mean after all it was in the scheme of things rather uneventful.” Yes she said…but it is because of memories like these that define who we are and are to become…you have sweet memories thus you have a sweet and gentle spirit, so please continue.”

I thought a little on what she said never realizing at first the depth of character than was behind those eyes of blue. If you must know I finally said, Grandpa would put his Sunday hat on my head and of course with him being a grown man and me just a child it would slip down over my brow and come to rest on the bridge of my nose. The thing I remember the most about this is not so much not being able to see where I was going very well, but the smell of the hair tonic that he always used. It smelled to me the way a pine tree smells out west. She the interrupted me and asked me with quizzical eyes…”You have been out west?”

Well yes I said, just after I got out of the service in 1978 I took my money I had saved and bought a backpack and humped it across Canada and the United States.” She smiled broadly when she spoke and said that she wanted to hear about this as well…”perhaps you can tell me when we get to your secret place, but please finish telling me about the zoo”. As I relayed the tale of the ducks and the zoo trips as a child to her, I could see the child like spirit that was within her. After we left the duck pond we went and looked at the big cats and of course “Joy” the elephant. At that point I felt that this was the most pleasurable two hours I had ever spent at the zoo and I didn’t want it to end, but our day was growing shorter and I wanted to show her my secret place and the magic that it contained…to be continued.

J. Allen Wilson ©10/2008

The Bus Stop Part 1

The Bus Stop Part 2

The Bus Stop Part 3

The Bus Stop Part 4

The Bus Stop Part 5

The Bus Stop Part 6

The Bus Stop Part 7

The Bus Stop Part 8

The Bus Stop Part 9

The Bus Stop Part 10

The Bus Stop Part 11