Look, it's July, on the forest floor at your feet; the delicate, tiny wintergreen blooms. 

Penny Candy

Heading west from the river, my shadow walks in front of me and then, just then, the lush canopy of trees shivers and last night’s rain rinses my sweaty, hot back. But, sadly, Suzi has a sore elbow. She doesn’t want me and Charlie to walk without her – she wants to be included. So, I shorten our walk, drop her back home, and continue on with Charleston, which isn't easy for any of us. But, one day last week, I learned my lesson and have to say no. Suzi seemed so chipper when we started out, and I didn’t notice until it was too late that she was limping badly. We were in the middle of the woods and I couldn’t carry her home! So, I called my daughter, asked her to bring the wheelbarrow bucket and meet us at the railroad tracks. We tipped the bucket low, scooped her in and pushed her home over the, rocky rooted trail.

Leaving Suzi today reminds me of being sick as a child and the lonesomeness of being left behind. I remember a summer day, my two sisters and cousin, Jaye, were taking off on adventure to walk two miles down our rural road, in the carefree summer heat, loose change in their pockets, to go to the penny candy store in the center of town and buy bags of penny candy.

I had some kind of bug, and even though I tried to convince my mother I was well enough to go, she knew better. Karen, Joanna and Jaye left me resting on the living room couch with a book – I don’t remember which – I only remember caring deeply that I had a book for good company. But it’s also a memory of learning how you can’t have both at the same time – the great comfort of a book, and the chance to dance and sing with your sisters on a long, unsupervised summer ramble to the penny candy store.

All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2017