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daisies in a kettle

On the porch of an old farm house near the  east end of Thackeray’s creek
sat a black rusty kettle with daisies, filled in with ferns which looped the handle  
sad to say but no one lived there to enjoy the flowers 
but the flowers remained pretty in their array of pastels colors.
There was a roof overhead so no rain fell upon them and none of them
had withered. 
No butterflies that I could see came to drop in, nor bees of note.
perplexed as to how the petals stayed so fresh I touched the  filling
of the kettle which I found damp.   I looked for a crack in the roof which I
thought maybe rain had seeped through, but found none.  the kettle
being away from possible rain being swept across was far from reaching.

then I thought I bet someone makes a visit to water the flowers and tidy
them up, but who?    No tire tracks were found or footprints on the porch.
Indeed this would be a good mystery for the gazette in town which was a good
15 miles away, doubt anyone would have a clue.

I looked out from the porch to see if I could spot something and come to a conclusion.
stepping off the porch I notice a stream of water flowing . the water was coming from 
a pond setting up on higher ground which would of promoted  this flow.
But obviously the water had to get from there to the kettle, and no ghost in sight. 

It was towards the early evening and all was still. Suddenly I heard some frogs, not just
a few but many!  Sounded like they were having a festival.  I spotted some at the edge
of the stream and others were sitting on an old  log which had fallen into the pond.
one spoke to me and asked how come I was here.  I told him that I was driving by and stopped
to see if anyone lived in the farm house.  He told me that the owners died several yrs ago and 
the house had been empty.  I asked then why are the flowers so pretty and with life?

the frog looked at me and said that they take care of the flowers each day. 
Okay, this frog is giving me the  bull story. 
I looked back at him with a scowl which he replied it was no bull.  
I said go ahead and make me laugh and tell me the story, I have some time. 

a few of the frogs came into focus and sat around and listen while this frog gave me 
his explanation. 

He began  by saying that the farmers were husband and wife and took care of the farm by
themselves. “those people were kind and generous to  others in the community and to us’
he said that they gave the frogs in the pond food each day and provided clean water by
making a stream from the pond to the house. so when the couple died we decided to 
care for the flowers but bringing water in our mouths to the kettle to keep them alive. This
gave us pleasure, and wanted to  carry on the generosity.

it was important for us to give back in a way, sort of like maintaining the flowers of their grave. 

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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