Walking on sunshine

I wonder how much I can trust the person we gave my old job if he didn’t even bother to change the password.

Anyway, this is Rick.

Many years ago, a path was cut through the woods owned by the local land baroness, Margaret Ann Goldsmith.

After the path was cut, TVA power poles were raised and strands of wiring strung high in the air like trapeze artists use, arching from one pole to another over hilltops and roadways.

At first, I was sad to see the forest cut down.

Then, the scientist in me stepped forward, taking notes on the change in flora and fauna.

Today, as I walked underneath the lines that are there only in case of emergency and note used regularly, I found a ripe passionfruit.

But this was a rare subspecies, the “Nectar of the Gods,” the local natives called it.

I hold it in my hands.

The aroma alone is making my writing difficult.

I would venture to guess that driving is inadvisable at this time.

I stood and watched bumblebees fumble into the passionfruit flowers on the vine and fly away drunk.

Would I have found this natural gateway drug if Margaret Ann hadn’t sold the rights to TVA to remove swathes of mature trees and underbrush from her land, just barely a stone’s throw from where her father sold property to the builder of my cabin in the woods?

I feel giddy, mischievous, desiring to pull a joke on someone.

Should I change the password of this account and see how the person who took over my network responds?

You don’t always have to be taller and stronger to win…hehe…we rarely forget the lessons we learned the hard way, rather than reading about them in books!