"Yes" Yielding 5/26/09

If you have enthusiasm, you have a very dynamic, effective companion to travel with you on the road to Somewhere.

Loretta Young
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Enter. You don't need a passport.
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My town is a mowed lawn, clipped hedge, pruned tree kind of community. A suburb, in other words. There is only one place where things grow wild, a mini forest on the edge of town. It's owned by The Nature Conservancy. It used to be a fairly good sized tract of uncultivated land but most of it has been turned into a parking lot. What's left is a narrow strip of wilderness between the lot and the wetland which drains off of the Delaware River.

There's a primitive walking trail through the little forest. But it's mostly hidden from view and so it's where the teenagers like to go sometimes to drink their beer, smoke their dope and do whatever else they do (don't ask). So the trail sometimes has some unwholesome litter on it. The trees and bushes don't mind. And neither do I.

I always visit the place in the fall to enjoy the rich foliage or sit on a log and watch the ducks. Or I can walk along the trail and pretend I'm lost in a far northern woods and maybe will see a chipmunk, a wild hare or a deer, if I'm lucky. No such critters abide there, alas. It's also a great place to watch the spring trying to exert itself, unencumbered by human help.

I decided this morning to write something on this topic of enthusiasm. But as I thought about the problems facing me, financial and physical, I wondered what I could justify being enthusiastic about. Then I read "The Hidden Side Of A Leaf" in Indigo's journal http://deafscreams.blogspot.com where she directs our attention to look beyond the surface and find beauty where it's hidden. I used to draw and paint leaves and I remember investigating the undersides of them. The reverse side of a leaf is like a gentle echo of what's on the obverse side. It's the part that doesn't catch the sun.

My life is hard. I can't go painlessly walking down the street to catch the spring sun or go strolling easily through the petite forest. But when I do I can look up at the trees and admire my brothers, the hidden forest leaves.

The journey goes on, and it's either done with depression and sorrow or it's done with the effective and dynamic joy of one who is glad to share life's hidden beauties with his humble companions.

DB The Vagabond
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Put on your dancing shoes and greet the day.
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