The Keeper

It was a perfect early September day.
Between the summit of summer heat
before the leaves fulfill their obligation to fall.
Between the newly cool mornings and the warmth of late afternoon.
We were the only ones in the large, landscaped courtyard
surrounding the fish pond, which my granddaughter
is campaigning to visit as a weekly tradition.
This time, the water was clean and cool.

Gabrielle threw food pellets to the trout in the pond,
the often massive culls from a local hatchery.
Sitting at the shady end of a bench,
I watched my favorite three year old,
listened to her excited commentary
on their frenzied, splashing rush to their meal.
The relaxing sound of the pond's large waterfall
was offset by the screeching of ospreys in their nest nearby.

There are moments when you realize you are experiencing perfection.
Though I can now record those events with my phone camera,
I also lock them in my mind's memory function,
so the sights, the sounds, and feel of those moments
are available whenever I choose to open them.
It is just one of many happy memories
of times spent with my granddaughter,
but this one, like her, is a keeper.