When my big sister, Lori, and I were eight or nine, we used to ride our bikes to a magical place just on the outskirts of Rio Vista, California. In this little patch of sand and tumble weeds were all the elements to conjure up childhood's most imaginative adventures. We named the place. . .
Lizard Land.
Old pipes, rusted out parts of tractors and sheet metal lay in haphazard fashion throughout our little kingdom.
And under each piece of sheet metal lay the possibility of untold riches. . .
or death.
The riches part of the "lady or the tiger" equation would be a lizard. Those lightning-quick miniature dragons with the detachable tails brought out the ancient, prehistorian huntress in Lori or me. As soon as we lifted the sheet, one of the critters would dart for safety. It took keen eyes, nerves of steel, and nimble fingers to grasp those little reptiles just behind the head. If you missed and caught its tail, he'd simply let the appendage go and you were left with a wriggling, scaly tease. On some summer afternoons we proudly came home with two or more lizards in our makeshift cardboard cage.
But. . .
occasionally, when we lifted a piece of sheet metal, we were met with a little, black demon. . .
a STINK BUG!
So, we were ready. Lifting the sheet with trembling fingers, holding our breath, ready to drop the metal at the first hint of something black.
We were savvy little hunters.
We knew about the risks.
Lizard Land provided us children with valuable life lessons.
Sometimes your efforts yield treasures, sometimes unpleasant surprises.
So, envision great things, but prepare your mind and body for warfare.
Ya gotta be ready for what's under the sheet metal.
wow, very nice view of nature. . cool. I wonder if stink bugs could be in that place.
ReplyDelete