It’s the last day in the 80s for a while. Summer begins tomorrow. I relished my time in the Woods. As I was taking numerous photos of my favorite rocks, a young couple was attempting to walk by. I stopped and motioned for them to come past me and get out of their way. When I said hello and asked how they were, they did not look up or speak. Later, I heard them speaking to another person and saying,’ He was just standing there.’ I wondered if it was my hat or cigar that frightened them.

As a child, I was taught to speak to those whom I met. It seems to be a lost art today. Is ‘Hello’ and ‘How are you’ really that frightening? I thought, ‘God Bless Them, they appeared to be much younger than my sons.’ Perhaps we are in our current condition due to a lack of simple courtesy? Or is the internet and media partly to blame? Has our constant diet of fear and loathing given us a belly ache?

It is the little things I have been told. Not the grand pronouncements as to love thy neighbor, but the small demonstrations that someone different than us or unknown to us is safe and worthy of saying Hello to.

Many years ago, I was amazed that Uncle Merle and Aunt Lauretta had bars on their windows. No doubt a good security device, but based on insecurity. We hurry home and look not to the left or the right to have a semblance of safety behind the door of our Fort as we lower the big, heavy board down to secure our entrance and raise the drawbridge so no one can enter. We man pots of boiling oil from the paraments for pouring on and scalding those who would lay their portable ladders against the walls of our castle. The Archers are ready with their bows, and the rock-catapults are pulled back for the destruction of the unseen hordes who are coming for us. ‘They are rapist and murderers,’ Leader tells us.

‘Do you have any trees that need trimming?’ Uncle Gene asked. ‘I have a truck and my own ladders,’ Uncle Gene continued while wearing his torn clothes and a wide smile. ‘I do not have much, but I am honest, and if you do not like the job, you do not have to pay me, Uncle Gene promised. ‘Some folks shun me for my jalopy truck and shoes with holes in them, but I work for my bread and I am proud of my labors,’ Uncle Gene noted.

‘I have several trees that need trimming, and you look like the man for the job,’ Ms. Myrtel said. ‘I am a retired school teacher, I taught sixth grade for 35 years,’ Ms. Myrtel said with a smile. ‘I like your positive presentation,’ Ms. Myrtel noted. ‘If you do as good as you say you can, I will refer you to the City Works Office, who are always needing good workers,’ Ms. Myrtel promised.

‘I am happy I knocked on your door several years ago, the breakfast was delicious, and now I am off to work for the City,’ Uncle Gene said with a smile and a wink.