I Cannot Think About a Grasshopper
It’s a beautiful sunny warm October morning.
Unusually warm for this time of year in Saint Paul, Minnesota.
I’ve decided to drain the pool.
The sun flickers beautifully off the water.
The wind blows and the wind chime chimes.
I’m happy and grateful for this day.
I’m melancholy too.
The cold is coming, it’s inevitable.
You feel it and smell it in the early mornings and evenings.
I have the pool net for cleaning and as the light flickers and the water trickles like music with the wind and chimes accompanying.
I sift leaves and debris out of the sadly shallow pool reminiscing about the bountiful moments of joy and laughter with my lovely grandchildren.
The too short summer.
Remembering their sweet faces often happily dirty with food and popsicle remnants and other mystery stuff.
As I sift and reminisce.
I look into the net only to find a rather large and rather dead grasshopper.
I feel sad for this guy.
This little being. Who probably desperately needed a drink of water. Only to find the thing he needs to sustain him now kills him.
I’m deep in thought.
Completely in the moment.
I’m sad.
But I have to move on.
The cold is inevitable.
I cannot think about a grasshopper.
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