It was meant to be

Back when I was a teenager, I was restless just like any other of that age.  I felt that growing up on the farm had limited me.  I had high ambitions!  I wanted to take the world by storm and be "somebody".  I wanted off the farm and out of the area.  Just like so many teens, I did not know exactly what I wanted to do or how I was ever going to achieve any of my lofty goals with no cash but I just knew that this simple life was not for me!  "As soon as I can, I am out of here!" Ha!  Those famous last words can always come back to haunt someone by being as absurd as anything!  I left that farm alright and moved just about a quarter of a mile west.  Yep, since that day that I left the family home, I have lived just a stone's throw away.  There I settled and have been happy since.  I love living on the Bayou with all of my critter friends!  I love the water, the marsh and even the smell of low tide.  I guess you can say it is in my blood.  My grand intentions of making a huge mark on the world has turned into a desire to leave very little footprint when I leave.

Without realizing it, I do believe my settling here was "in the stars".  Fate knew long before I did that I would become one with the area.  Today, I found evidence of just that.  Hanging on a post in my living room is a small plaque.  This was something that I had made for Pop years ago.  I remember that it was one of those Christmases that money was short (not a rare occurrence on the farm).  I decided to make all of my gifts that year.  I have little recollection of any of the other crafty presents but this one was handed back to me after Pop died.  Being about fifteen years old at the time, Granddad helped me saw the board, make little scalloped edges with the router and secure a rope at the top. We had seen similar blank plaques in the stores but could make one far cheaper.  Cutting the plaque was the hard part.  Finishing it was easy.  I chose to woodburn a pelican for Pop since he was always talking about "Old Gus".  I figured if he liked a pelican enough to tell stories about it, then he would surely like it to be immortalized on a hunk of wood!  Pop did like it.  When he opened my pathetic gift, he beamed like any good father would.  The plaque was immediately hung on the wall and stayed there until his passing nigh on thirty years later.  Now the thing hangs in my house and most likely will stay on the post for a good time.

When I look at my feeble attempt at drawing a pelican so long ago, I think of how that it was a beginning. I started drawing more critters and perfecting the skill of noticing life around me. This showed that at least I was aware of the critters of the Bayou and the importance that they were in Pop's life.  That importance has lapsed over into mine now.  A simple homemade gift might have foretold my entire existence had I listened to the calling of the Bayou long ago.  But I, like any other teenager, needed to express myself..my wants, my likes and my dislikes.  Funny how all of that changed with a few years.  My wants, my likes and my dislikes all pivot around the Bayou.  It is here that I belong....at least for now.