A Walk in the Woods
By Louis Jenkins
Out here in the woods I can say anything I like without
fear of contradiction. I am not faced with solving any of
the great problems. I have only to cross a twenty-acre patch
of mixed hardwoods and spruce from one road to another
without getting lost. Really, I am as free as the birds that
flit from tree to tree, like the white-throated sparrow,
singing "old Sam Peabody, Peabody, Peabody," or the trees
that are doing their usual dance-arms extended, fingertips
raised, feet firmly planted, swaying from side to side. Just
across the clearing there's a group of slender aspen, all in
their spring party dress, chattering away. Now the music
begins again. "
homely one bends over to whisper to her friend and ...oh,
hell, they're all looking straight at me.