By Jim Bates Fall was her favorite season. Smiling and happy she walked woodland trails collecting leaves and weeds and grasses. She enjoyed the feel of nature in her hands she liked to say, especially the colorful leaves. Sometimes she’d take him along, holding his tiny hand gently like she held her collections. He’d follow … Continue reading Burnt Sienna
Slingshot
By Jim Bates He was quiet that fall. Withdrawn. He’d started classes in a new grade at a new school. Old friends were drifting away. He couldn’t help it, but he felt sad much of the time. He didn’t know why. He took to walking in the nearby woods after school. He found, surprisingly, that … Continue reading Slingshot
Arrowroot Cookie
By Jim Bates Deep in the Northwoods lake country, the water glistened jewel-like under the bright sun. Waves were lapping on the shoreline bringing with them a gentle cadence to the day. The sand on the beach was scorching hot but seven-year-old Jack didn’t mind. He sat on the shore half in and half out … Continue reading Arrowroot Cookie
Clothes Pole
By Jim Bates Set firmly in the ground It had its own spot in the backyard A heavy-duty metal post with wooden arms attached Held together with clothesline rope A lever controlled it going up and down A thing of mechanical beauty Simple utility and grace His mother hung sheets from it every week White … Continue reading Clothes Pole
Helium
By Jim Bates I’ll never forget my first helium balloon. I got two of them for my second birthday. Two red ones, my favorite color. My grandpa gave them to me. “Here you go, Lonny,” he said, smiling. “Enjoy.” I did. My grandpa loved helium-filled balloons. Not those mylar ones with sayings on them like … Continue reading Helium
The Wreath
By Jim Bates The old man pulled back the curtain and peered into his front yard. It was covered with dirty snow, the stalks of forgotten annuals bent and frozen. He frowned. Should have pulled them last October. Who cared anyway? He let the curtain fall back and made his way to his worn armchair. … Continue reading The Wreath
Hydrogen
By Jim Bates I remember hearing the song by Three Dog Night, “One Is the Loneliest Number,” and thinking, Yeah, that’s me. All by myself. No one cares. Now I see that thought for what it really was, a cry in the night from a frightened six-year-old kid whose parents abandoned him to the child … Continue reading Hydrogen
Nitrogen
By Jim Bates Twenty years ago, during the spring of the 2020 lockdown, Mom announced, “We are planting a garden.” I was thirteen and my brother Jay was nine so, of course, we complained, me being the loudest, “Aw, Mom. No!” “What, you’d rather play video games?” Well, yeah, of course, but I couldn’t say … Continue reading Nitrogen
Oxygen
By Jim Bates The summer when I was eight years old a new highway began being built about a mile from our farm. My older brother Lewis and I were fascinated by the huge, noisy machines: road graders, dump trucks and bulldozers. When our chores were completed, we’d ride over to the creek, go for … Continue reading Oxygen
Leeches
By Jim Bates It was a hot August dawn. We were on the city dock, dangling our feet above the water. The sun was rising orange above the trees. The lake stretched out in front of us, waves rippling with a few ducks floating nearby. I hardly noticed any of it. Davy had driven us … Continue reading Leeches
Academy of the Heart And Mind 