. . . am a tree-hugger

. . . Because everything here is leafy green, watery green, grassy green and the sound of the slow-flowing creek breathes peace.

My friend and I sit on the bank.  Talk our way into the future.  Watch our sons

  1. chase Jesus bugs;
  2.  collect specimens: bugs, leaves, important twigs;
  3. enact outer space adventures up over logs and boulders, climbing up into the trees, splashing down into the water.

Other mothers sit on blankets with their babies. Because this is the town it is, these mothers are, today, younger than prudent, and not necessarily married.  The smoke from their cigarettes keeps mosquitoes at bay, but their babies’ eyes squint as the smoke passes over their faces.

This is not Eden.

But it is a place I love.

This safe, green, wet place is the center of the things I wouldn’t want to lose – the green shade, the easiness beside the water, the openness to anyone who lives here . . .

.

[story: Future Cycle: Small Town Revival (of 24:1) “Public Green“]

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