Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Piute Log...It Went Sproing 1991

21 Aug (Wed) Up at dawn; another long day ahead with little reward other than a pure, keen satisfaction with the gift of my life. ◦◦◦◦◦ An incident that I forgot to record on 16 August: I’d fixed the people-gate [a narrow gap in a fence that people can squeeze through but not livestock] in the back fence, on the other side of the river, and then was tightening the wires on that section of fence between the river and the gate. I walked down to the river to see how that bit of fence looked and stumbled on a 2½ foot length of an old fence post—a sawed-off “splinter” roughly 2” in diameter. It was lying in the meadow, keeping grass from growing under it. Since the thing didn’t belong there, I picked it up and flung it behind me, end-over-end, towards the gravel-bar (where I knew it’d wash away next spring in the flood). But this casual act turned into a breathtaking moment of perfection, absurd perfection. ◦◦◦◦◦ I flung it under-handed while bent over—backwards…behind me—as hard as I could to get it onto the gravel, about 40 feet away. I heard it whang into the fence—Sproi-oi-oing!—and turned at the weird sound to see it quivering there, stuck between the wires. I stood gawking as it slowly swayed to a stop. The thing was sandwiched between the bottom three of the four strands of barbed wire, straight up & down, centered perfectly with either end protruding several inches beyond a wire. ◦◦◦◦◦ Left it there as a testimony to utterly random events everywhere. A hundred people could throw sticks at a barbwire fence for a hundred years and never repeat this act. I suppose most people wouldn’t think anything of this—except that it was ha-ha funny, maybe—but to me, it had the flavor of a minor miracle.


Copyright 2014 Tim Forsell

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