Sticks and Stones


While walking, whether it be to the library, the Asian grocery store, through the parks and trails of my small town, or to the bus stop, I often come across things that set my imagination alight.

This morning, before the sun has established its hold on the day, I came across this stick propped up against the concrete pillar that might stop a car from crashing into one small part of the bus stop–the part where the electronics are stored and money is taken in–not the place where the people seek respite from the cold. Two scenarios come to mind.  They both manage to put a smile on my face that can only be seen when the car headlights wash over me.

Scenario One

Strong winds during the night rip the branch from a tree across the street. It lay across the road or the sidewalk, hoping to trip a human or perhaps a human on a bike.  Its intent is dark, but it offers no apology for it was ripped from its home and sees no fairness in life.

The intended victim somehow comprehends better than most and props the stick up against the stone and continues on their merry way. The stick appreciates the improved view and its heart warms.


Scenario Two

A young boy or girl, out walking with their family, spot the stick in the underbrush. Despite the young age of this child, he or she is fully aware of the value of a good walking stick.  A good walking stick makes any trail more comfortable.  A good walking stick makes big obstacles seem smaller.  A good walking stick is just like the one their mom or dad carry.

The trek through the muddy trail and over the concrete pathways arrives at a bus stop. The child, wondering if they should take the souvenir of nature home, decides impulsively and definitively that the stick should reside close to the nature it came from and leaves it propped up against its stone relative.  The child boards the bus and starts the last leg of the journey home.


About Anthony

I am: equal parts rebel, romantic and shockingly average Joe. a writer trapped inside of an ESL teacher's body. an introverted attention seeker. a teacher who hopes one day to be called "Captain, my Captain." an intellectual who can do some very dumb things. a person whose Japan experience, despite being so long ago, still exerts a strong influence upon him. a lover of books, music, beer, hockey and Pizza.
This entry was posted in Aspirations, Reflections, Perfection, bus, commuting, imagination, morning, smile and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Sticks and Stones

  1. I vote for scenario 2 or some variation thereof. A vote from much experience with and regard for walking sticks. See, on hikes when I’ve had the good fortune of uncovering a stick that suits conditions, I will use it respect and pleasure; the stick becomes a temporary companion. (And because I hike in solitude, not with people, who ruin everything, that I allow a “companion from nature” is all the more telling.) When the hike’s complete, I return the stick to Mother Nature, setting it down gently somewhere that feels right and always thanking it.
    But that’s me. 🙂
    I’d like to think that whoever placed the stick in your story thusly had a similar level of awareness. Won’t count on it. However that stick ended up there, it’s nice to see it treated well.

  2. typo, arrrrrghhhh! “…I will use it *with* respect and pleasure …”

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