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Memory
As far back as I can recollect, I enjoyed going into the fields and
the woods. The streamsides were an attraction which was strengthened
by frogs, water striders, salamanders and other inhabitants of those
areas. Often I was barefoot in those days. This gave an opportunity
to feel the ooze of mud between the toes, and the velvet of the
grasses. The swish of the wind through the tree tops was music --
but no less than the trill of the leopard frogs or the chatter of
the birds.
I was, and still am, in love with this world -- even well after four
score years. This has been a comfort to me, since it clarified
somewhat my place in the universe. Life has been good to me,
in spite of the viciousness and greed which is found among some of
my fellow men. I have weathered it with few bruises.
There has been much to life. I have made friends with the flowers
of the field, with the birds, the insects, the spiders, and the many
other creatures who share this good earth. Weathering a hurricane,
climbing mountains, sweating in the desert, and enjoying the welcome
shade of the forests -- all are good memories. Best of all are the
memories of the many friends I have. Like all of us, they have their
trials and joys. The best has been the woman who shared over two
thirds of my life with me. The sun will set on all our lives. Until
that day, we will continue to share the gifts which the earth offers.
by Stan Mulaik
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