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It's still fun to be me! Especially now that I've made peace with my poet wannabe self.

    
The Dilemma of a 51 year-old Former Lit Major
Or “A Tribute to Ogden Nash”

I’d like to pen a poem whose words
Dazzle lexophilic nerds.
The problem is, my mem’ry won’t
Cooperate, and so I don’t.
I settle for vernacular
(and hope it’s still spectacular.)
 
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I like who I'm becoming. This morning on my walk, I passed a family down by the Yellow Breeches. They were on a nature outing. "Hoping to discover something?" I asked. The two children were quiet. Who was this strange woman? "Perhaps you'll see our blue heron," I added.
 
"A blue heron?" The boy looked up at me. "That's a bird, right?"

I nodded. "And you should keep an eye out for the kingfisher. Here's what he sounds like." I tried my best to imitate the chirping sound I'd heard the other day.

The boy started dancing around - "a kingfisher! I've read about those in books!" 

His growing enthusiasm made me grin. "And we also have some familiies of bluebirds", I said, trying to think about other birds of note in our neighborhood. That pretty much concluded my pack of tricks, though, so I resumed my walk as the mom thanked me for the nature tips.

I smiled to myself as I crossed the swinging bridge, as I wondered who this famiy saw. A neighborhood orthnologist--this 50ish woman with her hair in a ponytail, cutoff sweats and a t-shirt? It reminded me of how happy I was when I realized, as Dan and I dragged our kayaks down to the Yellow Breeches for another Sunday afternoon jaunt, that we were "kayakers." Not just people who owned kayaks, but people who enjoyed using them. Like weekly outings to the farmer's markets in Costa Rica or frequent visits to the National Zoo when we lived in Maryland, living on the Yellow Breeches is making me into a person I like to be with.