Looking out my Backdoor: Once upon a wonder

Now and then I have these great ideas. Not that I do anything with them. Not that I even want to do anything with them. My time, well, that was a younger chapter in my life. Come and gone.

I’ll just throw this out there to see if you wish to do something with it. For free. Gratis. No charge. You are welcome.

My million-dollar idea of the day. Once upon a yesterday I had a friend who proclaimed we each had a million-dollar idea a day but never recognized it or dismissed the difficulty.

I agree that I have a million-dollar idea now and then, maybe not every day.

Here’s my thought. My great-grandchildren will be able to walk on water, possibly cross the oceans on foot. It’s not a big nor brash nor religious idea.

Actually, this is a small and thoughtless idea, given to us in small pieces, discarded by us when we got tired of the color or a different, more appealing, model appeared.

Tupperware, drinking straws, hair barrettes, snap-beads, water bottles, all jammed together to form what could be, with a little maneuvering, a footpath. Someone could organize tours. Walking tours are ever more popular. With the right marketing team, you could rake in the dough.

So, the pathway might jiggle a bit at times but that is part of the appeal. A hint of danger, oh, not real danger, you’d see to that by building stabilizers from recycled plastic, but ooh, the excitement. With proper management, one could provide walking trails, trails with various levels of difficulty, from beginner to master.

I suppose walkers might be wise to have open-ended destinations. One might aim for Spain and end in central Africa. Just a thought.

Of course, you would provide rest stops, hostels and hotels, depending on tour price, revolving restaurants, gift shops selling items easily discarded to become tromped into the pathway. Not everybody wants to fly off into outer space. Here’s an alternative for hikers.

Eventually, enterprising persons would build resort cities but that would not be in your lifetime. Probably. Once begun, growth is inevitable.

I’ve spent my life making something from nothing so I know you can do this. You are much more intelligent, are clever and have more resources than me. I have hope.

I’m reminded of my favorite Uncle George. He lived a long, long life. He managed, a field at a time, to accumulate the largest farm in his county. My uncle had followed behind mules plowing fields. He was forward-thinking, always looking for better ways to do the work.

The first time I visited my uncle in my adulthood, we were sitting out on the porch in the evening. “Where are the lightning bugs, Uncle George? What happened to all the butterflies I used to see? Where did all the cardinals go?”

“Well,” my uncle replied after a lengthy pause. “We have a different way of farming now. It’s called ‘no-till.’” He left me to think on that.

His sons both died young but they increased the yield of corn and soy beans many-fold on those acres. Better living through chemistry.

Weed-killers. Chemical fertilizers. Plastics. Surely we can chip away at the negative impacts of our once-brilliant ideas.

The next day Uncle George took me out to his two-acre garden and showed me the new hand-push rototiller he’d designed and built from scrap iron.

Because my uncle built an easy-push rototiller from scrap, I have hope.

Because of your soon-to-be-new inter-oceanic walking trails, I have hope.

Because of my new compost pit, I have hope.

——

Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at http://montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com/. Email [email protected].