Sam- comforting, stalking episode, my room
Reggie died- hunting, cabin trips, with me for 14 years
Basic Training- Michael being gone, Army life, new meaning to the word relationship
FWS summer- Prairies, summer trips, duck/crane/swan banding
Basic Training
(Intro)
Roller coasters can be an extreme thrill. Standing in a mile long line, chattering enthusiastically to your friends, waiting impatiently for what seems like hours, until finally it's your turn to make that ever important decision, where to sit for the ride of a life time?
The back, where the boring, less adventurous people go; the front, where the junkies go, wanting once again to fill their heads with that sweet, heavenly feeling of adrenaline they can't seem to live without. You turn, start to bolt to the front, to beat the kids with the crazy look in their eyes when your friends pull you to the middle. The middle where the smart, sensible people sit, the ones looking for the rush without the high.
Strapping in, you patiently wait for the workers to come by and check the bars holding you in, wait for them to give the thumbs up, and you hear the hissing of the brake release as the coaster lurches forward on the tracks. As the cars start their slow climb to the top the anticipation builds, you turn to your friends and exclaim about how close you are to the top. All of a sudden the clicking of the emergency brake stops, you look down one last time, see the ground miles below, and hold your breath as your car approaches the peak and down you go catching your rush as the wind whips past you, hair flying wildly behind you.
The rush of free falling through space, where your stomach goes straight to your feet some people love to feel, take it for granted. I however hate that feeling. Typically it means something bad is going to happen. I usually try to avoid that feeling at all costs however last summer I had to face that particular little fear face to face when Michael left for basic training in the lovely Fort Jackson, South Carolina.
FWS Summer
(Intro)
Some people may want to spend their summer in the pool, or better yet, inside in the A/C out of the sweltering summer heat. I, on the other hand, would give anything to pull on a loose pair of blue jeans, a YCC t-shirt, and steel toed boots and spend the outside in the summer heat surrounded by tall grass. Pulling barbed wire and weeds could turn into some of the most amazing adventures ever. And laying around under whatever trees we could find could be some of the best afternoons in my life. Working hand in hand with nature can be an extremely rewarding and awesome experience out there. Thank heaven I got the opportunity to do so a couple summers ago when I got to work with the Fish and Wildlife Service as a summer intern.
FWS Summer
(setting)
As I walk in the old wooden double doors the office is small, no more than fifteen by ten feet, just large enough to fit a large dinning room table in with about 15 chairs crammed around it. Straight ahead is a giant white board taking up about half the wall with the names of all the wetlands and prairies written down the left side. Tape running under each prairie name to separate one from another. To the left is a large pad of paper with current projects scribbled on it in any available place. To the right of the door is another tiny desk crammed into the corner with a new desktop computer on it connected to a projector that is pointed just to the right of the door. To the right of the white board are two more wooden double doors that run from ceiling to floor with small glass panes cut out to show the outside and the small observation deck behind the office.
Reggie
(Setting)
The grey chain line kennel is no wider than 4 feet, plenty of room for a medium sized black lab. It's empty now, smelling only of dirt and old hay. The weather beaten wooden dog house tucked neatly in the back is starting to finally fall apart. The sounds of dogs panting and yipping are only ghosts now as I walk to the back of the dirt floored kennel and take a small leap to sit on the dog house. Looking back towards the grey chain link door, it swings slowly closed in the silent breeze, creaking the whole time. I run my hands over the now smooth wood of the house remembering all the times Reggie used to lay on here to escape the heat. I look up seeing the tattered remains of the brown tarp that was used to keep most of the sun off the dogs in the summer. I glace at the right and notice how you can see the entire back yard from this spot. Green grass hills and a larger than average garden filled with left over corn and other random vegetables we have yet to eat. I slide down and take the ten steps it takes to get back to the door and close it behind me as I slowly walk back to the house leaving memories closed in the kennel.
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