INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Chris Lord
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A MORNING REVERIE Waking in the middle of my dream I try to stand but find being upright suddenly is a difficult task. Recalling the strenuous nature of things in the morning, walking across campus I am distracted by a line of ants moving slowly across the cement walk, across my pathway. So, I pause and become silent observer of their trek, of their movement. Ants are clean creatures-- they cart away carcasses of overwhelmed prey. If only we humans would learn from nature's insects and animals, we might take a lesson or two from the smallest ant or tiny hummingbird. Ah, we last less always, or so it seems, less than our environment's friends-- big and small, gator or wasp, squirrel or bear, able, as we are to be, only to tramp down, walk on, smoke out, and park on most of the Rhode Island postage stamp-size green primitive lands still unsoiled, still green in spite of civilization. When I came down from the mountain hike I came down out of silence and solitude wanting to take a closer look, be the undisturbing observer, become the noiseless interloper, somehow, for the moment, nearly one with these ants, with these dainty creatures. Fred Wolven, Homestead, Florida |