My Favorite Place

This is more of a journal entry of a memory from my teenage years

My Favorite Place

 

    The dry leaves of the hickory and oak trees crunched as I walked on them. A small grey jackrabbit scurried away when it saw me.
    The robin that was feeding her young eyed me closely as I cleared the debris for a place to sit down. The ground was cool and damp. There were a couple of blue jays serenading me.
    A grey and black squirrel was chattering to his buddies before they started chasing each other. As they came to the ground I stayed completely still so I would not scare them away. One of them actually ran across my bare legs. A flying squirrel flew from a treetop over to a power line.
    I watched some kids play baseball at the baseball field that bordered this little patch of woods. I could hear the calls of “strike” and “ ball” as the game advanced.  Some other kids laughed as they jumped rope. A man and a little boy rode a horse through the park. A dog followed them.
    A blue winged dragonfly landed on my fingers. Its legs tickled my fingers very much.
    Fragrant yellow and white honeysuckle vines grew in this patch of woods. I picked one and sucked the sap from the stamen, enjoying its sweet flavor.
    The sun was high in the sky. Nothing was affected by the bright sunlight, since the trees shielded everything from its hot rays. As I sat there relaxing, I heard the sound of cars passing by on the two-lane road right behind me. I dozed for awhile and was awakened by something hitting me on the head. I reached my hand up to touch the top of my head, and again something felt something fall from high above. I looked up and saw that a squirrel had dropped the acorns he was carrying to his home.
    The warm breeze carried the pungent smell of the manure from the farm next door to me. I also smelled the distinct aroma of the chicken frying from the fast food chicken restaurant down the street. The smell of the manure, mixed with the aromas of the chicken and honeysuckle made a really weird combination.
     Soon I heard a kitten meowing; I looked over in the direction of the meow. At the edge of the woods I saw that a dog had chased the kitten up a tree. As I got up, the dog ran away. I spent several minutes coaxing the kitten down and into my arms. Her fur smelled fresh and clean as she cuddled up in my arms.
    I glanced at my watch and realized that I was going to be late for work. I said goodbye to the little kitten, then hurried down to that chicken restaurant for my shift.












 

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

This little tale of a magnificent few moments one morning-time suits me in a special way. Never having been a city person, the simple pleasures you experienced are known to me, and I felt like I was there. Anyone who has enjoyed a bit of farm life knows about, and probably doesn't mind, that strange mixture of smells, too.