Seasons of Change

     October is budding, right around the corner. Summer is gone and a new Season is stirring about, and you can ask any child and they will tell you that it is almost Christmas. Yes, they skip around in search of the perfect Halloween costume. Thanksgiving and the gobbling of turkey and dressing in November, and go right to December. What a perfect month! A month of colors and weather that seem to change overnight, but most of all, the change comes when you least expect it.

For me, I am thinking about cooler weather, the way the park looks when the colors of the season brush strokes of orange, yellow and brown over the green of the tree leaves. These are the days I will spend a few extra moments with a drawing pad of my own attempting to create a masterpiece for my study, or even my dining room. I don’t call this column The Park Bench for nothing, you know.

My deck is quite inviting. It is 25 feet and 30 feet long. It stands approximately six feet off the ground, and in the evening, it is a good place to be when the sun goes down. You can watch those tree limbs, swaying slightly in the evening wind.  Whether it is a good book in hand, browsing on the laptop computer, listening to a radio playing and sitting and talking with friends, there is no place you would rather be.

My friend, Micky lives in Kentucky. I will be flying up for a visit with him in October. He keeps telling me there are four scenic drives that will just take your breath away. I was in the midst of allowing him to make that point, when I was notified by our local law enforcement a train had derailed. So for the current time, the only thing I was worried about taking my breath away was some toxic or chemical substance that was airborne due to the train derailment. Oh, I guess stranger things have happened, and will.

So, back to what I was saying. Funny isn’t it, just how seasons change in an instance. I mean, in one minute you are sitting in your home, tucked away with nothing to do. The next thing you are pushed from your door with a handbag under one arm, and Fred, the dachshund under the other.

I could tell by the looks on the faces of the Lincoln Parish Sheriff’s Deputies, their job wasn’t what they expected, and their night had changed as well. So, just in case someone forgot to tell you, “Thank you for helping us out. And for putting our safety in front of yours,” as it that devotion that makes them deputies. 

You know I was never a deputy. But I know a lot of people who are. And I know a few who were. I was part of the North Delta 58th Regional Training Academy, as an agent for another Department. The unit was ran daily by Carl Gregory during the daytime, and by Dr. Harold Williamson at night. The seasons have changed for both of these two gentlemen, and they now rest in peace. But the legacy left behind by those who graduated from this academy, and from the criminal justice classes taught on campus, will always be remembered.

Published November 10, 2011, Ruston Daily Leader, The Park Bench.

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