My best friend Donna drew a picture of a pond scene and without knowing it she captured some of my youth. A section of my life that holds some of my most pleasant memories. She sent me the picture to look at and as it came up on my screen I could hear it talking to me. Hopefully you will understand what I mean. 

As I sat and stared at the picture my mind traveled back to a little girl of 5 or 6, squatted down beside the pond watching the sunbeams frisk over the water. I could literally hear the sounds of cawing crows screaming back and forth to each other as they swooped and dived through  the sky. As I squeezed my eyes tight I could see a grandfather and a little girl sitting on the bank holding a strong cord with a safety pin attached to the end as it dangled in the water. The little girl was so certain that she was gonna catch a fish !! 

I closed my eyes again and I saw a little girl sitting at the side of the pond, catching poly wogs and putting them in a jar, convinced that she would watch them turn into frogs before her eyes. With my eyes closed and my mind locked in time I could hear the buzz of flies on a hot day as they hovered over the little girls head. I could hear the splash of a frog as he jumped from the shore into the shallow water along the edge. 

Opening my eyes and gazing at the picture my mind again walked backwards in time and I could see a little girl picking pussy willows and bulrushes to take home to her Mommy. What beautiful arrangements they would make!  Even at that tender age she was envisioning them in an old jar in the center of the kitchen table. How proud the little girl felt that she had picked them all by herself for her precious Mother knowing how much she loved flowers and knowing the joy they would bring.

I could see the little girl with the hem of her dress damp and dirty from crawling around in the marshy edges of that pond (feet bare and filthy and hair a tangled mess but with a smile a mile wide). Oblivious to the time and lost in a space where only a little girl can venture -- the pond behind my parents farm was a place full of adventure and great findings for a little girl. Many the hour I spent hiding out amongst the reeds and pond flowers chatting to the frogs and poly wogs.

Yes, Donna touched on the pleasant memories of a little girls youth--and for a moment in time I was back behind my parents farm playing aimlessly along the edges of a pond full of a little girl's dreams.