One Speck in the Cycle of Trees
Apr. 4th, 2022 07:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
michaelboyI want, to visit the place where there are are no beginings to begin or endings to end. Just a visit, mind you - so it would be like a holiday as some call a vacation. Where, like the birds that come to the feeder, are the very same birds my dad fed and where in the basement I would sometimes take small bits of seed and eat them myself - millet, as I remember. I want to be where I could be so far in the middle that it would be hard to see when my mom had garden club parties with 'the ladies' and then the end would be stretched out somewhere way beyond certain summer days when I would wait in seersucker hand-me-downs to ride with Whitey the Cloverland Dairy milkman. He wore a wonderful hat and his truck interior was silvery treadplate with a gear-shifter longer than life.
I thought of how since I was little, I wished I could somehow affect the cycle of trees in the way they lose and gain their leaves year after year. I have yet to discover a way, except in reverie, to change this - even one speck. My mom used to say "one speck" But then maybe if I packed Reverie a lunch of peanut butter 'sandwidges' in Cut-Rite wax paper and a two-cent carton of milk, and he might just come along with Whitey and me.
I thought of how since I was little, I wished I could somehow affect the cycle of trees in the way they lose and gain their leaves year after year. I have yet to discover a way, except in reverie, to change this - even one speck. My mom used to say "one speck" But then maybe if I packed Reverie a lunch of peanut butter 'sandwidges' in Cut-Rite wax paper and a two-cent carton of milk, and he might just come along with Whitey and me.
