Be prepared for life — to live happy and die happy.
Become an antilitter fiend.
It is also an opportunity for good fellowship.
That’s the big idea.
What a glorious feeling to jump into the lake and strike out for the diving raft with your buddy.
Not a care in the world.
And then, of course, another swim.
And maybe not just a swim.
It may be a vigorous game of capture the flag.
Darkness is falling.
You take a deep breath.
You bend down.
Repeat.
If you want to have an agile, supple body covered with flat, firm muscles, you must bend it, twist it.
Don’t kick.
Just glide.
Stop for a rest every half hour or so.
But don’t stop here.
A deer breaks through the underbrush.
Then the leaves fall.
A cottontail runs off.
Suddenly a pheasant takes flight.
It takes off as it catches your scent.
Now lots of songs.
A lake may seem peaceful and quiet.
Not so.
You’ll be wrong.
Now get down flat on your belly and check on what’s there.
Use a magnifying glass if you have one.
Groundhog hairs.
Feather.
Cracked nut.
It is a botanical puzzle.
Gnawed cone.
Shed snakeskin.
Barn swallow.
Squirrel.
This is soon followed by the detested Norway rat.
Brother, that’s a trick that takes patience and skill.
Some minutes go by.
Crickets chirp.
A head peers up cautiously.
Katydids sing.
Then the whole, chunky body comes out.
Get help from experts.
From the lake comes a steady banjo tune.
The air around us seems limitless.
It isn’t.
You will be found.
But don’t stop here.