Junior Woodpecker Training Camp

Pasta salad and Steph Kallos' new novel, Language Arts, in the park across from work made a lovely lunchtime today. Why does a one-hour lunch break seem so much less than twice as long as a half-hour gobble-and-go break? Did I spend that much time staring at the cicada exoskeleton on the back of the park bench, imagining a Twilight Zonesque what-if scenario? Giant insects climbing out of the dirt and up and up to enslave mere picnicking humans?

What camp counselor supervised the young woodpeckers? Get together at one tree to hammer, braid lanyards, raise the flag, and sing "On Top of Spaghetti"? Earn your Junior Woodpecker badge.

One redhead was doing the majority of the tapping work while the other four just flitted to nearby trees and occasionally clicked in.

Did I drowse? I just sat down, but I've got to run back to work.

 Just one mosquito bite to scratch, and hours to go before I sleep...

© 2013-2015 Nancy L. Ruder

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