This is Sparky. Don’t ask me why I named him that, it just popped into my head. When I first got him, I tried “Roy” ( as in Rogers, who rode Trigger and was married to Dale Evans) but that didn’t stick so Sparky it became.
I once knew a Sparky though that was not his real name, of course. When I was in the photography biz, I had a long-time commercial customer who worked for the power company. We were about the same age; in fact, we each got married at around the same time and shared many pre-and post-wedding stories. Anyway, genial fellow that he was, at some point the guys up front in the shop started calling him Sparky and it took. But I digress…
Anyway, poor Sparky has pretty much been hidden all summer behind the hydrangeas and hostas. You could hear him gently splashing away but you couldn’t see him. I must really be getting lazy in my dotage because I let the poor fellow go on sight unseen. Every now and again I would say to myself, “You have got to trim that stuff back so you can see Sparky.” And another week would go by.
This evening I went out to have my regular sit-down in Vinnie’s garden with my Diet Coke and as I walked past him I suddenly could stand it no more. So out came the Felcos and a few judicious snips later, there he was. Nice to see you again, Sparky, my old friend. You are music to my ears and a sight for sore eyes. I promise not to forget you again.
I leave you with a little snippet of Sparky in action. There are few lovelier sounds than water in the garden. Wouldn’t you agree?