Running by a couple of metal horses standing tall in a yard on my run, often makes me think of a horse I remember when I was a young boy. It was on top of a pole in my front yard. The yard itself was framed in metal, at least the porch was and the front gate but the horse sat on top of a long pole. I don't recall it exactly but I often think of it as I run past the neighborhood horses. I will admit I have even thought of that horse as I have ran past a favorite metal cactus on the run. Odd how memory works.
The metal horses has been found. Never lost although it is not on that pole today. It exists in my memory and in this picture. Then too I may exist in this picture. I look myself in the eyes and recognize myself. I had my Tom Sawyer days and they are still here. I do see myself here but then I remember my brother then and a time that was short. Too short. The dog was glad to stand for the picture. Trees in the background make me wish for a color photo. Then for that matter the color photo of the box below just doesn't seem like it belongs on this blog. It was an afterthought. I was already thinking of years ago and I walked into the kitchen to see a bowl of red something being stirred with a spoon. As the spoon went around the small bowel the smell rose from the bowel. I was not close enough to smell but I could see the air and my mind flashed back to times inside this house. Red pudding was a treat then. Then too the river, the park, the trees, the green leaves, snakes, frogs, and the sound day and night of the water was a time where I had roots. Dad was across the river. Mom was in the house. All was mostly well in the world. If you can find those moments then you, in my opinion, can thank parents that allowed them to happen. (Then too will I some time many years from now write of the neighborhood horses....................)
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