Meeting of the Admirals

I have a young friend
whose soul sparkles like a firefly.
Her intellect and curiosity
are matched by her kindness and compassion
but are light years behind her simple
and startlingly refreshing
quotient of sheer happiness.
She lives on the Vineyard
and spends a lot of time in a house
that overlooks an ancient pond.
Just beyond the reach of her father’s golf swing
there is a large rock that is sometimes above the waterline
and sometimes not.
She calls it Cormorant Rock
because those silly birds play king of the hill out there
and see how many of their friends they can fit on that rock
before they all go teetering off into the pond.
It’s hard to get a good count
from the shore
without binoculars
but the family tries to keep track
and my friend can tell you the current record to beat.
I guess that was the start of it.
Our keeping an eye on that rock.
But somewhere along the way
I started putting a cormorant into one of the paintings
in the Granary show each year
and dedicating it to her.
It’s a tradition now.
And you don’t mess with tradition.
So, while this painting reminds me of
her rock.
This is not the one I did for Katie…
She’ll have to figure that our on her own.
And trust me…
she will.