Wild Side Dreams or the Boyish Heart

Wild Side Dreams or the Boyish Heart

Ken James McLeod

I am that boy who dreams of the wild side and of boyhood days gone past: the baseball fields I use to play ball in (where I could spit freely without adults telling me to quit that) now covered under concrete, and the hand-me-down bicycle I rode to get there...'twas a motorcycle ya know. Of Old Shep or Old Yeller - the hero dogs of all boys around, you know the imaginary dogs that could be called home by playing a note on a blade of grass.

I am that boy who always had a fishing pole in hand and knew about the trophy fish waiting under the dock -- the leviathan the pros couldn't catch. The boy who always tried to catch the most crawdads, too. And I am that boy who hunted with a slingshot ready to kill a mighty dragon with, in hopes to rescue the lovely maiden the monster captured and had taken to his lair.

I am the boy who always climbed the highest tree in the woods by the school to impress the girls, and who could show them he could toss the farthest rock down at the lake in the summer time. And the one who ran the 50 yard dash about as fast as any boy could in the sixth grade...thinking it to be the Kentucky Derby or a "wild" stock car race.

I am that boy who always loved the outdoors: lakes and streams, the mountains and woods. The boy who always dreamed of catching tarpon as seen in the Outdoor Life Magazines, and the boy who wanted to scale Mt. Everest but never got there as a man.

I am that boy who grew up to become a man and who found himself a romantic and desirous of woman...sometimes wondering why God even created them? And or how did I get myself into this mess...this woman and man thing called love? But then, I am just man.

I am that man who sees and hears the red-tail hawk crying overhead when all others have not the slightest inclination he's there because their ears and mind are closed. And I am the guy who whistles back. I am that man who on occasion wishes he were a hawk too, soaring on powerful wings that could take me over grand wilderness lands.

I am that man who as boy climbed the highest dirt mound or hill around in the neighborhood for the simple pleasure of view. I am now that man who climbs mountains and ridges in search of that same pleasure. And I am that man who seeks solace in the wild -- that connection to Mother Earth and my Creator - that which many have long forgotten.

I am that man who abruptly drops everything and heads for the hills...only if it's for a simple little trail-walk through the woods. I am that man who on occasion finds himself immersed in deep thought about mountains and routes even while at work, and who spends his lunch hour pouring over survey maps in the quest for the next truly grand place. And here at the house where over in the corner sits my hiking boots in wait, I gaze upon them dreaming, wondering where they will lead me when laced up on the next adventure to the wild side of my boyish heart.....

KJM