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ken rummer

This is the way

Fortune tellers read palms. Ancient Etruscans read the livers of sheep. I’ve been reading sidewalks. Dark purple splatters? Evidence of a mulberry tree nearby. BB-sized rounds crunching under foot? Choke cherry pits. And that gray, leaf-shaped stain, like the shadow of an object vaporized by a space alien’s destructo-beam? The calling card of a silver maple tree.

This is the way

Fortune tellers read palms. Ancient Etruscans read the livers of sheep. I’ve been reading sidewalks.

Music that can touch the soul

I’m working up a violin piece for church. With our choir still on pandemic hold, the call went out for special music, and I raised my hand.

A duffer finds grace in golf

My tee shot gained altitude, a rare outcome and hopeful. But then it started to curve, bending more and more to the left. This was during the decade of my life when I played a little golf. The ball cleared the course fence — a good thing in baseball but not on the links — and I suddenly realized it was heading toward the traffic on the interstate next door.

What’s getting me through these days

I’m a small child in a crib, struggling to breathe in the night, clogged up with what will turn out to be allergies and asthma. My crying rouses my parents, who take turns responding.

What I’ve learned in seven decades

What have I learned? An approaching birthday, one that ends in zero, has me thinking, not so much about academic knowledge, but more about the life experience sort of learning. The kind of observation-based wisdom I find in the book of Proverbs. The kind of practical stuff I might pass on to a grandchild or share with a friend. So I made a list. And here’s a sampling: