Silver Sixpence

The Old Grey Poet recalls how he lost and then recovered a silver sixpence in Surrey in the days of WWII.

I seem to remember the carpenter pulling the coin out, wiping it on his sleeve, spitting on it for good luck, and pressing it into my palm.

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To Think We Might Have Missed It

We had great expectations.

Fewer than two days ago, thunder rumbled and rain fell for a very long time. So we had great expectations that the creek would be running again.

We were anxious to see the green-blue water, to swim in it. We were hot and sticky and were looking forward to finding a place where we could at the very least let the water run over our feet.

But our hopes were dashed.

At the end of the winding path that leads to the water's edge, we found no edge and no water. No green-blue. No place to sit and dangle our legs. Just white rocks sitting in the afternoon sun.

Well this isn't worth the hike, we thought. Why walk the half-mile or so to that place where the water falls when there's no water here and certainly no water there? Sitting in the sun in a dry creek didn't seem like the thing.

We almost turned and left. Instead we decided to walk upstream in hopes of finding a pool that might not have dried up yet. Our hopes were few, but there are good swimming holes up there, so we decided to try.

We walked for about ten minutes. The path along the east side of the creek at that point is mercifully shady, running thru dense woods in a bottom lands of sorts. A breeze cooled us. The trees held back the sun.

And when the path turned back towards the creek, we saw what we had hoped to see. In spite of the dry rocks further downstream, here the creek was flowing. The water gurgled as it wound between and fell over mossy rocks.

Here was what we came for.

Here was a place to cool our feet. Here was a place where the water was deep enough to color it greenish-blue. Here was where we decided to stop and watch the minnows and tadpoles and water bugs. Here we found a place to cool down. Here was a place to listen to the music of the Central Texas spring.

We thought we might have missed it.

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Barton Creek Greenbelt, Austin TX

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