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As I Listen to the Pond Ripple



And so the house blows up once more. The thing that saddens me most is that it was even noon yet.

Tired of the shouting and screaming I went out to the backyard with my laptop. Writing calms me down.

Bones nudges my leg as I walk by him, his affection evident in the one action. As I sit, I look at him and his wide head turns my way. I understand his eyes. He knows that I am hurt, but he cannot move to comfort me.

I tear my gaze away from him to settle on Sam. He’s a ball of energy, bouncing to and fro, dancing with the squirrels. Once tired, he always sits down in the pond, the water trickling over his through his fur and over his paws.

I can still here the yelling outside. Every word of it is crystal clear. I muddies up my mind and makes me not think straight. It irritates me. Maddens me.

Clenching my fist, I close my eyes.

And then I hear it.

The pond.

Rippling and tickling softly, the water running down the rocks into the small pool at the bottom.

I find myself calming down but the argument inside continues.

Words between my mother and brother. Words about budget. Money. Kids. School. Old Appliances. Me.

It’s all too much.

But the water of the pond calms me. The birds in the tree soothe me. And Bones’ caring eyes make me smile.

The backyard is certainly my most favorite place.

Here, I can lose myself in nature. Be a mighty animal myself.

And that is enough to make me forget the yelling and fighting.

For now at least.