One Morning in May

Today, needing fresh air, I walked all the way to my "secret spot"--I guess it isn't really secret, being just another public spot on campus, but the only people who really use it are the grandfathers in the mornings. So in the afternoon, especially around now, I walked there.

You start by going down the stairs that are closer to the apartment. Usually, when going around campus, you take the other stairs on the other end (we're one apartment away from one set and about four away from the other). When you go somewhere else, you take the other, because it goes right off campus if you go for about six meters or so. Or maybe seven. Anyway, my "shortcut" to my "secret spot" is on campus, but actually closer to the closer stairs.

You cross the dirt road that's right there (carefully, of course) and go to a stream. It stinks and it's right by the shacks, so I prefer not to think about what it might be like to fall in. But there's a crossing of a few boards--you know, like a balance beam?--and one of them is stable enough to walk across. It's quick.

Then you follow a trail--it looks like a mountain trail and is no harder--up a bit to these shacks. You turn right at the shacks, and it's mostly flat--by mostly I mean that there's a few dips and that, but it's practically flat--that is, until you get just past the shacks. You turn left after that and go up somewhat sharply--that's about the hardest part. After going up, you reach a trail with a slight incline that leads you up a short wall--that's about 3 feet or so. You follow that along the wall until it goes up--steeply, but not so bumpy. Then you get to a concrete road that you more or less follow straight until its end.

At the end, you avoid the first turn left that is obviously a dead end and ignore the right turn that will take you somewhere. The next turn left--the concrete blocks leading down a grassy hill--is the one you want.

Take that path, and the first turn right, you turn, to get to the big gigantic concrete steps that are a good place to sit. Or, you can press on along the path--past the cherry tree--until you get to a big bamboo. But then the path ends anyway, on the grounds of a court for a game somewhat like croquet. There's a little shelter with a long bench and a scoreboard. I like to sit there.

Today, however, I didn't. I grabbed these seed-like things that are like dandelions--only they've got more substance, and they're bigger--and stuffed them into a pillow I was making. When I was finished, I drew for awhile in the sand of the court, then retraced my steps to go home.

Now, I may not be a folk musician, but I sure do like to sing. So of course I had to sing something. I don't know a song with 99 verses (who does? I'm not sure exactly who I've heard of that does, or did, and I think it's Sheila Kay Adams), but I do know this one ballad that's fun to sing, "One Morning in May".

One morning, one morning, one morning in May
I saw a young couple, they were making their way
One was a maiden, so bright and so fair,
And the other was a soldier and a brave volunteer.

The song goes on to have the soldier say "hello" civilly to the maid, then he ends up pulling out his fiddle and playing a tune or two. Then the maid asks him to keep playing, and three seconds later asks him to marry her. He says, no, he has a wife already, and six kids, so he can't.

"So I'll go back to London, and I'll stay there for the year.
It's often I'll think of you, my little dear,
But if ever I'll return, it'll be in the spring
Just to see the waters gliding, hear the nightengale sing.

Actually, come to think of it, how happy can that marriage be? My mum always starts on that with any song or story that may suggest something like that. Actually, it sounds more like another song...yeeks, I gotta go! Never mind. More later.
Saro