THE BLUES

 There was an exquisite blue plaid spread covering the bed in my room. Deep greens blended with a variety of rich blues set off by thin stripes of burgundy, black and just a touch of white.

One day while relaxing in my living room, I heard something unusual. Drip, drip, drip, drip. It seemed to be coming from upstairs. As I pondered over its source the sound became louder. It sounded like a waterfall. I rushed up the stairs thinking, how awful it would be if water was over flowing in the bathroom or a pipe sprung a leak. From the hall at the top of the stairs I could see at a glance, nothing in the bathroom was wet. But to my amazement, I did see blue oozing out from under the door to my bedroom.

I threw opened the door. I rushed in. Astonished, I stared at my bed. The blue colors were flowing from the bedspread like water over a dam. The remaining greens, burgundy, black and white were just lying there disjointed and pathetically alone.

I loved that bedspread. All I wanted to do was to somehow bring back the blues and make them stay where they belonged.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I followed their colored trail. They rushed down the stairs. I rushed down behind them. They fled through the house and out the back door. I chased right after them. As they neared the creek behind my yard, their rapid flow became animated, tossing and turning gleefully in the breeze. With a carefree leap and the faint sound of laughter, they joined the water flowing by on its merry way to the river.

I was left standing there completely bewildered.

Somewhere the creek empties into the river. Somewhere the river empties into the ocean. And somewhere thereís a distant horizon where the ocean blends into the sky.

I was sad for a little while. But now Iím not.

Someday, when youíre lying on a blanket on the grass or on a beach, look up at the sky. Look up. There you may see my blues.