Sketchy Thoughts

Sketchy Thoughts

Noel Laflin

8-15-14

My daughter likes to doodle. 

She left this particular one sitting next to the downstairs computer years ago. I think she was bored while having to complete some tedious school paper and decided to divert her attention for a minute or two.  She probably did, as I am doing right now, and turn in the old swivel chair and gaze into the garden.  The gentle sound of water softly falling into the three small ponds must have stolen her attention.  I am glad it did as I have always liked what she captured on that small piece of paper that day.  I like it for a few sentimental reasons:

First, it’s a good sketch.  I base this partially on the fact that I can’t even produce credible stick figures.

Secondly, it focuses primarily on our old plum tree.  It's a nice reminder of the garden’s constant evolution as that tree stood for nearly 30 years.  It provided us with a thousand pints of jam, eighteen bottles of wine and yet just one more excuse to go into the garden and pick a gift from mother earth on any given June or July day for nearly three decades.  I gave silent thanks to the tree when I had to finally bring it down.  A newer plum tree was quickly planted not far from where this one once stood. It's growing nicely now.

Thirdly, Krysten included the old log cabin birdhouse, which always sat high in the tree. It was a birthday gift to me, from her, when she was nine or ten.  We spotted it at Michael’s one day while on some school supply run.  She knew my fondness for log cabins and wondered aloud if it might be a suitable birthday present.  I said that I would like nothing better.  She surprised me with two log cabin birdhouses that year – both painstakingly painted by hand.  They each hung high in the trees for years.  I climbed a tall ladder and carefully removed this particular one before sawing down the plum tree.  It nearly crumbled to my touch.  But, the remains of old nests were clearly visible within. 

Lastly, the doodle was done on an old pad of paper bearing the name, address and phone number of a work place now also long gone.  That employer gave me the means to help raise our daughter and a place to share jam, and freshly picked plums with a multitude of friends.  I doubt that Krys realized just how perfect a choice she made when inspiration struck and this note pad was selected to be its simple canvas.  But, I am glad it turned out that way.  And, I am very glad that I have kept it tucked in the corner of the frame holding some old family photos, which sits next to the downstairs computer. 

I look away from the sketch and computer monitor and out into the ever changing garden.  The sound of softly falling water has stolen my attention. I find myself wishing that I could doodle half as well as a girl one third my age.

She is home this weekend for a quick visit.  I am going to ask for a new bird house, should I remember, before she flies away back to school and tedious papers yet to be composed upon her own computer.  My birthday is only a few months away and the younger plum tree looks like it could use some new tenants.