Walking Through a Small Prairie Town.

 

     The day shimmered.  As I looked toward the horizon, the trees, barns and houses wavered in the morning heat.  Few people were out.  Few cars moved.  So I was free to walk in the streets of the little prairie town.

     I saw what I remembered to be typical yard décor.  Here was a small deer, head lifted, never moving, and never sensing the wind change.  Flying ducks and geese caught the breeze and, unfailingly, faced into it, flailing wings in circles toward the flow.  And butterflies…there were multi-colored sets of butterflies on houses, sheds, on fences.  White painted tires held mounds of perennials.  Plastic flowers, fading, but never dying, lined a white fence row.  I saw none of the colorful windsocks that we use to catch the movement of the wind.

    I did re-discover the walking hazards in a town without a leash law.  A fierce Chihuahua would gnaw my bones if I did not pay suitable homage to his territory.  No turf battles with such a terror!

     Only children and wandering preachers walked in the late morning sun; children laughing and shouting for the joy of the day, the preacher breathing in memories and remembering the joy of the years.

     Come to church.  Reawaken the joy

     Light and Warmth
     Willard Spencer