A stuffed animal left near a rental cabin in the Lincoln forest. The proverbial
pink elephant? An insignificant item that seems to anchor those few days in one’s
mind. Muddy and forgotten. What sort of life did it participate in before it was abandoned in the rocks, pine needles, and mud? Did it once absorb dreams in a sleeping child’s arms? What became of it after it received this brief attention from a lens? Did it cause someone else to wonder also? Was it carried away by a playful pet? Did someone
come along, wash it, and place it on a shelf…a do-dad, a treasure to remember a pleasant weekend? Did a wisp of wind drop it to the forest floor again to lie once
I want to imagine that a youngster with pink bows in her hair picked up the lonely little elephant and talked her mother into washing it clean again. Perhaps the little elephant has started a new life of adventures that include reading stories, tea parties, and trips taken on a high-flying swing into the atmosphere. A Mary Poppins existence.