A Poem for Earth Day

Springtime on the River in Leo

We were there, looking out at a serene, reflective river. Then, "that's a beaver!" said the one. A thick, sturdy brown creature paddled out from under the pier floating cow-style, doing a dog paddle, as if such a thing were possible from an aquatic rodent mammal. It cruised around and about, almost lollygagging along the shoreline. Spring water was calm and I agreed: maybe it was a beaver or an extremely large muskrat.

Now, I sat not moving in April and feeling guilty, perhaps a Catholic-mother type of guilty or a Midwestern-Christian type of guilty, just as bad. As if the world didn't want me to sunbathe or listen to the birds sing: the wren, the robin, the finch, the catbird, the goose and duck. Red bud trees curved like bonsai after their limbs had been broken by the winter's ice and snow. No leaves yet, their tiny pink buds were dots still, their bright brilliance a promise that was yet to be unveiled.

Yesterday's rainbow sherbet. It was so good. Did I once say 'sher-Bert?' now it has become sorbet, always was. Oh, happy colors. At rainbow's end - we come again -

The birds hammer away. Do they sound loud to themselves? Do their heads vibrate? Paper whites, tulips, daffodils, vinca, lies, untold truths, secrets. "So-and-so needs lots of feedback," meaning 'reassurance,' he said and I thought, as he was talking about a co-worker. Really, I thought.

As for me, I'm glad to hear the distant lull of a trolling motor on a fishing boat far down the waterway. I wait for the beaver/giant muskrat to paddle back by me.

A little girl knocked on the door, asking for someone who wasn't home. She watched me shut the door, carefully lingering: holding her breath, she heavily drew it in, and then let it back out. I saw her as she ran through the front yard and around to the flowering magnolia. Nearly flying past, she reached out and clung to a large blossom attached to a low-hanging limb. Her hand wanted it so badly but she seemed afraid, of being yelled at, any minute: she was new to the neighborhood. Briefly, I saw a moral struggle written on her small face. Sweet, sweet anguish of life. Temptation.

I stayed inside, smiling, watching from a window. Unbeknownst to her, and to the beaver rat - creature on one side of the house, earth child on the other.

Essay, or Poem, for a November Day

Leaves of locust tree and Japanese maple lie mingled on the ground.

The gold and red leaves on green grass glow bright in the crisp cold air. I feel stunned by the intensity of their colors - it contrasts with my stomach, which is dull and full from lunch of chicken, potatoes and slugs of chocolate milk. I almost reel with the scene flooding into my eyes.

I'm ashamed to say I've always disliked the weedy locust. Now on the ground, the spider-like branches make an intricate pattern. Looking up at the tree's sprawl, I wonder if I may have it cut down next year.

No leaf blowers for me. I want the exercise of wielding the rake. No mosquito whine of motor spoils the air, and gentle quiet goes unheard. I refuse to rake up the carpet of scarlet Japanese maple leaves - they are too glorious.

Holy Earth scattered with the tree's ash; old fire of life.

Couples whisper like young lovers strolling down my street. They pay homage to the town's best trees, which rule in my yard. Walkers look happy, like dating courtiers.

"What kind of tree is that?", a voice calls out behind me. I reply without looking up. "Magnolia." She's my prize, and beneath her is where I'm raking. Then I look up and see a woman pointing. "Oh, that one. Japanese maple." Luminous red, alas, yes, this is her season. Magnolia, magnificent and pungent in the spring when she displays her tulip-orchid flowers, she now only drops sad brown leaves. I love her no less. But Asia is the beauty contest winner of autumn, and commands all the attention: it is her turn now, her season.

Olde Towne Diner

There is a big opportunity in Leo, Indiana (just North of Fort Wayne) for a nice restaurant. Residents say it all the time; it comes up in surveys and town planning meetings. The few restaurants that exist are pizza chains, a Subway and a couple of 'mom & pops'.

The food at the Olde Towne Diner, 14515 Leo Road (State Route 1) is decent. Sometimes it's pretty good. Maybe that's good enough - it promotes itself as a 'diner', and a diner it is. Retro diner decor, pictures of Elvis and James Dean - you know the drill. It opened in 2007, and the booths in the front window are becoming a bit 'sprung out.'

I like the people who work there - friendly service goes a long way in any setting. The view across the street is interesting - I've taken a photo (shown above) of the Scherer & Maxfield tractor dealership, featuring quite a few antique tractors parked out front.

The soups are a good feature. Cream of Broccoli is on the menu, and the last time I was there clam chowder was the soup of the day. I've heard good things about a lasagna soup - I haven't had a chance to try it, but it sounds interesting. My kids like the grilled cheese sandwich they serve.

I personally am fond of their fried fish. I know that isn't the healthiest thing for me, but it's something I don't make at home, so I don't have it very often. I was told theirs is Alaskan pollock. It's light and the batter is usually not overly fried. It comes with slaw and fries. I'm not crazy about their French fries, so I was given the choice of their chips instead. It would be nice if they would offer another vegetable as an alternative. The chips (called seasoned chips) are good though - kind of thick, fried on site. Tasty they are, and an indulgence.

They do offer some salads, but otherwise it's mostly classic diner sandwiches and burgers. You know what I mean - BLT, breaded pork tenderloin, hot ham and cheese, grilled or breaded chicken, coney dogs, hot dogs. There are cute little diner knick-knacks for sale by the cash register near the door. So why am I expecting more? I guess because I see the opportunity. Leo tends to stick to its old formula, and doesn't always keep up with the times and current tastes and trends. It might be a philosophical argument - is this simply sticking to the classics, or is it a lack of forethought or worse (excuse me) laziness? I dislike being critical, but those are my thoughts.

On a sweeter note, they do make handmade milkshakes, and offer a variety of homemade pies. I also like the fact they have a drive up window - more than once I've called in a phone order and then driven to the drive up window to pick up the food. They could use a little updating, some help branding perhaps. But that's just my opinion. It's Leo, so they'll probably just stay stuck in the time warp and do it the way they want. With their location close to the downtown businesses and high school, they probably have enough clientele just as it is.