Inanimate Objects

We have a small area in our front yard that is fenced off and is called "Arch's National Park With Benches" It is a place the grand kids (and unknown neighbor kids) like to play and look around. The micro-gust winds blow the pine cones out of the trees overhead and make it hard to walk around in the park. This morning I was out raking the pine cones and other junk out of the area when I bumped into one of the little figurines. I found myself talking to the little object and apologizing for having tread on it with my adult feet. As I realized what I was doing I started to laugh thinking if the neighbors were listening they would think I was nuts. (Actually they already know I am) I tried to figure out why I was talking to this little thing when I realized that after many years of having a family I have spent most of my time talking to inanimate objects. They are so busy doing their own thing that they can sit and ignore you while you are talking right at (not to) them. So I felt right at home in the park with all the metal, resin, glass and plastic do dads that make the park a pleasant place to be. You should come for a visit if you promise not to step on the little decorations.