I wasn't going to write anything this month, but I decided to sit down and listen to a DVD my son bought me, Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds Live at Radio City. Dave, who lives near where I spent fifteen years of my life, has always been like an old-fashioned bard to me. Anyway, as I watched the DVD of the concert, I began to feel like writing again. Then he launched into the song, "Oh."
The world is blowing up
The world is caving in
The world has lost her way again
But you are here with me
But you are here with me
Makes it ok
I hear you still talk to me
As if you're sitting in that dusty chair
Makes the hours easier to bare
I know despite the years alone
I'll always listen to you sing your sweet song
And if it's all the same to you
I love you oh so well
Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow
I love you oh so well
Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell
Love you oh so well
And it's cold and darkness falls
It's as if you're in the next room so alive
I could swear I hear you singing to me
I love you oh so well
Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow
I love you oh so well
Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell
Love you oh so well
The world is blowing up
The world is caving in
The world has lost her way again
But you are here with me
But you are here with me
Makes it ok
Oh girl you are singing to me still
Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow
I love you oh so well
Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell
Love you oh so well
That led me to write this story...
All Under the Wheeling Sky
The world has lost her way again. It’s not hard to understand why.
A boy knows his way when the sun is shining and there are rabbits to chase.
I remember that time. It carried its own music, a bouncy rhythm. Two dogs, a best friend, and the wind in our faces carrying the scent of the wild. One dog, Heidi, who chased cars and belonged to my friend Mark, was a large, tan German Shepherd. The other dog, Wags, belonged to me. She looked like a miniature mutt collie and smiled a lot.
These were the best times. Autumn afternoons. Open fields full of rabbits for chasing through the tall grasses and scrub growth. The dogs loved it more than even Mark or me, I think. I’d head on over to his house after school with Wags running out ahead of me with her body quivering with excitement. Mark only lived a few backyards from me. Usually Heidi would meet her about halfway, and they’d leap and dance around each other a bit before they’d head off chasing each others’ tails and nipping the others’ shoulder.
Mark would meet me on his front steps. We might start off with some Oreos and lemonade, a gift from his mother, June Cleaver. Soon though, we’d march off with purpose to the fields nearby. Heidi and Wags would zip past us, unless a car happened by and then Heidi would have to break off to chase it down. Heidi was a professional car chaser, but even the best sometimes have accidents. Heidi had survived several encounters with tires, but had lived to chase some more.
The field we liked best was at the bottom of the hill below Mark’s house. It was a complete mixture of tall grass, briars with biting thorns, smoking weeds (hollow reeds that we’d break off and light…then inhale…blech!), dirt piles, and small paradise trees (stink weeds). Throw in some tangling honeysuckle and pokeberry plants with their poisonous purple staining berries and you had a recipe for wild afternoon rabbit chasing.
It never took the dogs long to realize where we were heading. They’d leap ahead and blast off into the grass. Mark and I were always determined to keep up with them, but our boy legs were no match.
Every now and then we’d catch a brief glimpse of one of the dogs flash through the dense growth. Meanwhile, we’d be pretending to be explorers breeching some remote undiscovered land. All kinds of dangers awaited our imaginations. Tigers. Strange men. Giganticpredatorybirds. Soon we’d find ourselves diving into prickly blackberry canes for cover, simply hiding there and whispering new danger warnings to each other.
At some point, Wags, the better nose of the two, would catch the scent of a rabbit, and we’d be jolted back to the present. She’d let out a telling yelp and begin high-pitched and excited yapping. Heidi would soon join in with her, bruskly barking while executing a serpentine chase of some frightened rabbit.
Mark and I would try to position ourselves in the woods so that we could catch a glimpse of the rabbit. Our ultimate goal was to capture the little fella. I’m not sure what we planned to do with a rabbit if we ever caught it.
After much exploration in that wild land, we had identified several promising rabbit trails. We knew that once the dogs scared up a furry critter, it would eventually come down the trail to us. I’d crouch on one side of the little path with Mark on the other.
Almost without fail, we would hear the dogs getting closer to us and soon we’d see movement just ahead. Without fail, we’d each time our leap and throw ourselves at the scurrying blur of fur as it blitzed past. We never managed to snag a rabbit using that approach, but it sure was fun diving and missing then just rolling over and laying there looking up at the rolling clouds. Sometimes I’d pretend the clouds were boats sailing across a sky ocean. I could lay there forever watching the clouds rushing away from me to someplace far away.
Heidi never caught a rabbit, but Wags actually got one a couple of times. Each time, she had no clue what to do with it. Each time, Mark and I would freak out and rush in to save the prey. Since Wags was clueless about what to do with it, we were always able to complete the rescue.
As the sun went from golden to orange and the wind went from refreshing to chill, we’d begin to head home. The dogs would have a bit less bounce to their gait and their tongues would be dangling and sticking to the ground.
Back at Mark’s house, they’d tear into bowls of refreshing well water. After shooting the breeze him for a bit, I’d eventually head home, because a boy knows when it’s time to eat and when it’s time to come home. I never lost my way.
The world has lost her way again. It’s not hard to understand why.
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