We’d ventured outside on a hot day with a mission: to investigate the creek behind our house and find what treasures it held. By treasures, I mean crayfish, minnows, bugs. The kids were beyond excited, as we were going to forage into the unknown, armed only with a stick for breaking cobwebs and some trusty rubber soled shoes. We headed upstream aiming for the bridge, which comes out at the top of our street. We found what we were looking for, a monster crayfish, hiding under a rock in the shallow water. First win! Emboldened, we soldered on, announcing every new find and leaf and congratulating each other on noticing even the tiniest of things. The kids were in their element, able to be kids, focusing on where they stepped so they wouldn’t hit a bottomed out section or a too slippery rock. This is why we moved here, to literally submerge ourselves in the elements. We came upon neighbor’s backyards, some who had created intricate paths to the water’s edge, others impenetrable with tree roots and piled rocks. Just ahead we spied a man mowing his back lawn, above us on a ledge about four feet up. He came over to see what we were up to.

“Helllloooo!” I called to him in my best “friendly neighbor” voice. I explained that we lived just a short ways down the creek and were on an exploration of sorts, and did he know there were crayfish in the creek? He did not know, and asked us more questions about what we found. Seeing the wide grins on all our faces he said,

“Enjoy your adventure on this beautiful day!” And we bid him farewell. We moved on through tiny waterfalls and secluded pools, and imagined where the fairies hid out, and where the secret salmon were avoiding us. It couldn’t have been more perfect. The kids even braved the spiders that seemed to descend from nowhere, landing mostly on me (the stick wielder/spider protection agent) and sometimes on them. With a few quick brushes they managed not to freak out, which is saying something.

We emerged at our destination, the kids elated. We then decided to go just beyond and climb out at a bend in the creek we knew about from our hiking adventures. And we almost made it. A booming voice bellowed at us from above.

“Do you know you are in my yard?!” An oldish man yelled. I stared at him, blankly. The kids stared at the rocks, the creek. Anywhere but up.

“I’m sorry, I thought I was standing in the creek,” I said, not even to be cheeky, but pointing out what I thought was a factual statement.

“This part of the creek runs through my yard, and its mine,” he pointed out to me.

“Okay….” I started…

“Do you live on this creek?”

“Yes, I do, “ I answered.

“How would you like people walking through your creek?”

“They do,” I answered truthfully. “And I don’t really care.”

“It’s a matter of security!” He yelled at me, from his perch five feet up. To get to him I’d have to scramble up a slippery embankment filled with roots.

“Do you feel threatened by me and my children?”

Now I was breaking the rule. The do not engage-with-crazy-people-rule. I believe some people might use this in my direction as well. But he was wrecking my perfect day, my Mother Earth love in! He seemed to consider this point, not knowing if we were a threat or not. I guess if he knew my daughter might punch him in the face if he, say, took her toy, that could be seen as a threat.

“That’s not the point!” he started.

“I think it’s a matter of perspective, actually,” I started, and then he started to rant about lots of things at once, at which point I directed the children upstream.

“We’ll be leaving your yard now,” I said. “Have a nice day!”

At this point he was still going on, and I just said, “Have a nice day sir!” in a very loud, shut-the-hell-up voice, as we made our escape.

Now granted, maybe someone has broken into his house. I doubt it, as they could just walk through the yard, rather than scramble up the embankment, commando style. Or maybe he was having a bad day. But I don’t think so, not really. This seemed to be a prepared speech, one he gave more than once. Were we trespassing? I guess we were! Omigosh! How horrible of us! I told the kids he should post a sign on his property that said “Beware of the Grump”.

This was a perfect moment to show the kids how people generally work, and I actually took advantage of a “teachable moment” before it had passed.

“And there, “ I said, with scholarly knowledge, “Is a perfect example of the two different types of people. Some people will say, “good luck on your adventure”, and some will say, “get out of my yard”. We discussed optimism vs pessimism, and how most people descend somewhere from these two points. And if Grumpy wanted to, he could have informed us of his proprietariel rights in a completely different way. But he truly seemed to be enjoying his yell, which often goes hand in hand with the “out of my yard” type. I’ve used this example since.

“You have a choice in how you speak to your sister,” I might say.

Gladly, they have not yet used this on me. ‘You have a choice, Mom, to NOT yell at me about picking up my stuff, and rather, choose a different route to express yourself.”

I must try to remember this, try to re-teach myself. My own perspective becomes flawed when I am literally wading through my living room, filled with stuffies and notebooks and legos, of which I think could all be contained in their rooms. I lose track of optimism.

Now I regularly see this guy, and think, at least I have more things to do in life than you. Get a hobby, Grumpus. Or at least, a different one.