Everyone has their own favorite trespassing story. I believe like the native Americans that we are just borrowing the land, that it's as silly to own land as it is to own the stars or the moon or a tree. Everything is here for each one of us to share and enjoy. A politician once rapped on my door. How dyou feel, he said, about the kids who trespass on your property when they cut thru your yard to get to school.
Oh, I love it, I said. In fact, I keep the path clear and ask my neighbors to cut down fallen trees with their chain saws.
Did I tell you I got a new mailman? His name is Tom, a fit replacement for Mailman Bob, whom you remember I mailed a poem upon his retirement and a gift of $50 donated by our neighbors.
I asked Tom why he chose our neighborhood for his route. It's easy, he said, few hills, houses close together. He was one of the few people who bid on it, probly, he said, b/c they either don't like change or b/c they get good Xmas gifts come the end of the year.
I learned all this when I ran after Tom the other day with 12 postcards I was mailing from the Smithsonian's African Museum. Turns out Tom also collects postcards, esp. for the old Willow Grove Amusement Park where his dad worked as a brakeman on the carousel and the Alps roller coaster.
Do you mind if I walk with you in the neighborhood, I asked. I used to do this with Bob. This way I get my exercise, talk to Tom -- he's a fundraiser for Kisses for Kyle -- and of course trespass with impunity.