By Jim Bates
Growing up, my brother and I spent as much time as we could walking those rolling fields and hardwood forests, like our hero. We learned to identify wildflowers by their color and birds by their song. Iβll never forget squishing through springtime bogs listening for spring peepers and wandering fragrant summertime meadows happy among the butterflies and bees. We had our own Walden, a magical pond over the hill, hidden from the progress of man. I scattered his ashes there last week, watching as they drifted away becoming one with nature, and maybe, if he was lucky, finally finding Thoreau.
“I hope my stories bring people a little pleasure and make them smile.” β the writer
A heart-warming tale of childhood!
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Hi There!! Thank you so much for reading and commenting on my drabble. I’m really glad you liked it π
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thank you
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Hi! Thanks so much for reading and commenting on my drabble. I really appreciate it π
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love it, Jim π
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Hi John! Thank you so much. I’m super glad you liked it π
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I’ve come across a few pieces on Thoreau I really liked and would have mentioned it in y comment but for the life of me, I can’t think where it was; it’s an age thing π
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Childhood memories and a feeling of loss towards the end. Nicely written.
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Hi Nightlake. What a nice comment. Thank you so much π
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Hi John. My brother, who is still living by the way, is a student of Thoreau. He’s got Thoreau’s books and journals and poetry all over his house. It was a fun drabble to write. I’m glad you liked it π
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I absolutely love this piece. Your descriptions transported the reader…The cover art/pic is stunning. Is this also your pic or was it sourced from elsewhere…?
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