A Friend, Booger Island, and William Shakespeare

The world has been in the long and steady process of falling apart ever since Eve sunk her teeth in that fruit (not that the weight of The Fall rests wholly on her – Adam did his part, too). I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older or if it’s because I have a constant stream of news splattering in front of my eyes, but I’ve never been so acutely aware of how bad things can get.

Wars and rumors of wars, earthquakes (so many earthquakes), abuses, race riots, us-against-them. Liberals and Conservatives arguing over who is ruining our nation and, in so accusing, are shredding us to bits. Our schools are failing, our kids are obese, cell phones will be the demise of human civilization. And the trolls! OH THE TROLLS! Displaying all that is vile and hateful and vicious while at home in their bean-bags eating Doritos.

Doom and gloom. Gloom and doom.

Yesterday I met up with a good friend at a park. This is a good friend who lives thousands of miles away. A friend I’ve known for almost 19 years (is that possible?). We brought our kids, let them loose to slide and climb and run.

And explore.

What did they find on their adventures? A cold water creek that ran lazily between the park and a jutted out piece of land.

They immediately claimed the land for their own (like hundreds of kids before them). They declared that it was Booger Island.

Why Booger Island? Because they’re kids, that’s why.

We let them get in the water, climbing between the two bits of slippery-mud ground. They tried to build a dam, they splashed, giggled, chased after black and blue colored dragon flies. Ancient trees shaded us, rocks set in the wet sand long before held their weight as they hopped from one to the other.

The only worry I had was over the leaves-of-three, hoping no one would get a case of the poison ivy.

My friend and I watched them, laughed, shared stories. My friend even braved the water a few times to rescue escaped soccer balls.

This is good, I thought.

When it was time to leave, I looked at my kids. Muddy toes, scuffed up knees, wet clothes, smiling faces.

Yes. This is good.