i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
Jude, the middle son with the iron will and wild eyes, said “I can’t believe you are taking me camping, Daddy.” He carried his boy things–the borrowed pocket knife, the partly whittled sticks, a piece of gum for the road. He had that fidget about him, the one of leashed ecstasy.
We set up camp on the banks of Crooked Creek, a gem of the Natural State where the small mouth bass run riffles quietly, like a whisper. Men come to fish this creek. Boys come to find treasures, to listen to the secrets slipping from under the rocks.
*Continue reading over at Amber’s place.