By Old Man's Mound

Walk Softly

At the end of the day, your feet should be dirty,

your hair messy, and your eyes sparkling. - Shanti

We're headed toward the rivulet in search of the fiercest eight-legged, poison-fanged gagamba spiders for the afternoon's tournament fight. Come on! Cousin Emy says brightly. 

The path by the bamboo grove is guarded by speaking owls. Don't you get distracted by them, he warns, staring straight ahead. The loam earth beneath my feet is rich, almost quivering with life. We're taking advantage of the last of the sunshine before getting called in for dinner. 

Nuno! Cousin Timan says cautiously. In local mythology, nuno is an old, dwarf-like man who is believed to live in an anthill mound. Because he is easily angered and will do harm to those who disturb his habitation, children are warned to ask permission before passing by. 

We walk softly. Gravely and with considerable respect to the invisible keeper of the small hill, we recite the requisite words, Tabi tabi po. Excuse us, please. After a short pause, as though hearing a response, we express our gratitude, Salamat po!

We scurry on to the tall reed grasses by the woody thicket where we capture our prized critters. 

Let's go back! I rally without hesitation. We quickly pass by Old Man's Mound, remembering to ask for safe passage once more.

A clear sky has given us a final orgy of play. Although my spider lost, I still have managed the widest grin with the confidence of a commander who has lost the day's battle but fully expects a victory the next time around.

Today has been good, today is fun, tomorrow is another one.