There Was Nothing There To See

There Was Nothing There To See. I had been there so many times before. I returned this time because of that nothingness. No buildings, no traffic jams, no mobs of people, no protest signs, no frowning faces. I wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to make decisions or sign papers or run errands or anything that vaguely resembled work. This was my time to relax and refresh.
I laid on my back and felt the warn grass surround and hug me. I pulled a few blades and rubbed them between my fingers then popped a long one in my mouth. I was taken back to childhood when I would lay for hours searching through the clover in our backyard. I never found the elusive four-leaf clover, but was content to continue the search.
I positioned my shoes and socks just so on the large boulder next to the creek. My feet slowly slipped into the cool water. How long had it been since my best friend, Betsy, and I had splashed and played in the water on the beach in front of our summer house? I had memories of my cousin, Ben, and I fishing in the pond on Uncle Jake’s place and coming home with soaked sneakers and jeans. Now with my toes flexing in this cool creek, I felt calm flow over me.
I walked into the woods a ways and saw bushes full of berries and ate my fill. As each berry burst in my mouth, I could see the day Betsy and I ended up sick as dogs by following the example of the squirrels in the park. We ate so many acorns and pine nuts I was afraid our stomachs would explode. T hey didn’t even taste good. It was just something kids did, I guess.
I climbed to a large crook in a tree and looked out over the small town below that I called home. My office was down there and the life I would join once again when this day was over. But for now, I was so glad I had come to this place, where there is very much to see.