2001-03-14 - 23:21 MST

March 14, 2001

Rustling

What triggers memories ? Tonight a memory surfaced about the time a bit before VJ Day. We had just one child then and the "state of the art" term wasn't even there I don't think.

We lived in an old store building, fronting on the sidewalk. We were on the first floor and rented out the front room to a Real Estate company which helped pay the rent.

There was plenty of room for us in the rest of the place. I was working a decent job, the baby was well and life glistened like a diamond flashing in the sun.

The particular time I remember . . . . . . far enough into fall that there was a light brown carpet of leaves fallen from the trees, (women probably have some fancy name for the color) -- light brown is the best I can do. The air was nippy but not severe and pretty good at midday.

We had a real baby buggy, a "pram," one of the four wheeled, home away from home for a baby, with enough room to carry stuff for the baby's welfare.

We lived about eight blocks from City Park, I was working graveyard shift so some daylight recreation time was available to me. Heather and I would put the baby in the buggy, with diapers, formula and a snack and a drink for Heather and I, cover him and walk up to the park.

The streets and sidewalks were pretty well clear of leaves, but oh, when we got into the park and on that expanse of leaves smelling the smells associated with being in the park in the fall it was a fine time in our lives, one Heather and I look back on. There is one picture of Heather and the buggy in City Park at that time of year. Black and White of course

Cruising the park with our armored vehicle (baby buggy to you) listening to the wheels crunching the leaves, and seeing the undressed trees and their graceful silhouettes, natures orthopedic x-rays of summers green foundation. It was something we enjoyed greatly then, but even more so when we think back of the time when we were starting our nuclear family.

Other memories spring out too, like the time I started in to the kitchen and had to make a super dive to catch the baby just as he jumped off the tray of his high chair - - - yes he became a high school high diver, a pretty good one at that. The times in the winter Heather and I would go to bed in the back room which was not heated and cover up with a layer of covers and spoon it to stay warm until finally our bodies warmed the covers enough that we could assume our normal sleeping attitude. I even fondly remember Heather putting her cold feet on my leg or worse yet on my back and waking long enough to rub her feet and warm them a bit.

So, I am afloat in a sea of good memories, remembering the sound of City Park leaves Rustling . . . . .

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