This morning I received a message from the Domino Project about joining a 30-day writing challenge inspired by quotes from Ralph Waldo Emerson. The first prompt was from Gwen Bell and was called "15 Minutes to Live":We are afraid of truth, afraid of fortune, afraid of death, and afraid of each other. Our age yields no great and perfect persons. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
You just discovered you have fifteen minutes to live.
1. Set a timer for fifteen minutes.
2. Write the story that has to be written.
Here is the story I wrote. Not about my current life or significant philosophical meanderings. Instead, about the life of a child playing on a hot summer's day and the lessons I know now that I learned lo those many years ago.
* * *
I remember hot summer days when I was a kid and I ran through backyard sprinkler for relief.
The water would arc one way and then the other, hanging in the middle for a poignant moment before continuing on its appointed course. I would dash into the artificial rain and squeal and laugh as the cold water hit my sun-baked skin. It always was a shock but I'd run through quickly because my sister and brother had to have their turns. That was the way of our large family. Everyone took an equal turn. Although we each tested the rule in our own ways, we always found that equity was the most satisfying way for everyone.
Eventually, we discovered that if you walked at just the right quick pace into the spray, you could stay under the water’s arc for the sprinkler’s entire spread. As we tested our theory, our mad dashes became scientific explorations of arcs, parabolas, and trajectories, though we didn’t know what to call them then. Our sole goal was to remain under the sprinkler’s influence for as long as possible while our parents pulled weeds, pruned bushes, and cleared away debris in the garden.
In my mind’s eye, how old was I then? Probably around eight. That would make Danielle around six and Stephen three. The one-year-old twins, David and Richard, could have been in their playpen, watching us with curiosity. Or, maybe they were toddling behind us only to shy away, frightened by the cold spray of water. Or maybe each one was scooped up by one of our parents and they ran together through the sprinkler, learning the life lesson that taking out time to have fun while you were working hard in the garden was good.
I loved that backyard. The garden was edged by coral bells with their variegated scalloped leaves and long, stiff stalks with tiny pink flowers that waved in the breeze. There were even big clam shells marking the edge of the garden some years. Against the wooden fence, a huge spray of tiger lilies sent out their orange blooms and their name -- tiger lilies -- intrigued me. The corner of the garden held a small, shallow concrete pond, surrounded by rhododendrons that bloomed pink and light purple in the spring and provided a dark backdrop for the pond. The temptation to step in was always overwhelming when the water was clean and fresh at the start of the season.
By August, the heat would be overwhelming and if we didn’t have the sprinkler set up, I wanted to step into the pond so badly, but the water was murky and mysterious. Once, I gave into the urge and felt the refreshing water followed by the slippery tickle of furry algae under my feet. After a moment, a primal fear crept into my chest and I quickly jumped out, shaking off my feet and my fears, and I ran off to find another adventure on a hot summer day.
