Footprints

     More Letters From Paradise
            Footprints
I got to thinking today that everywhere we walk and live, somebody has been there before. On my small acre of land, it must have been where Indians once camped. My land was somewhat higher than the surrounding land. And,I had a giant oak tree which when measured was 13 ft. in circumference. I had a set-to with a drunken farmer who rented the field next to me. He said that the tree shaded his corn. He wanted me to cut some limbs. I did not, much to his dismay.

One time I built a concrete form for a back step to the kitchen, and dug up several Indian artifacts. So my hunch was right. I remember too finding arrowheads in the field after a rain. The Wyandotte Indians had left their footprints.

Another time, I discovered a buried brass gunpowder flask, beside a wall of a shed. But alas, no rifle. I think that the powder flask must have hung on the wall of the shed, and the strap holding it was cut either by rats or the passage of time. Again, more footprints from a previous owner.

I have come to learn that the drunken farmer is gone, but so is that huge tree. But they are still alive in my memory, and now on the printed page and the internet.

      Aloha
      Grant