I’ve recently been taking a nostalgic look through all of the blogs I’ve written in the (almost) past 20 years since I began this blogging journey. I naively have been thinking that I should collect some of them into a book for my kids to read after I’m gone.
Well, I don’t know about them, but I’ve really been enjoying revisiting them, and some of them still make me laugh out loud (is it OK to laugh at your own writing?) Every once in a while I come across one which I think you all might also enjoy reading. Some of you might recognize these “oldies but goodies,” but I’ve gained so many new readers in the past few years, for most of you they’ll be brand new.
This has always been one of my favorites, drawn from my frequent walks along the bike path adjacent to Rt. 104 in the village. I originally posted it four years ago this week.
The Tale of the Wandering Box Spring
I bring you a short modern fairy tale today about loss, but ultimate redemption.
Our story begins last summer, when a lone box spring appeared in the wooded area along the pleasantly shady and tree-lined path known to local residents as the Trail of Bike. It rested comfortably along the north side of the Trail, only several feet from where cyclists and walkers would pass. It probably would have found its way deeper into the brush had a metal chain-link obstruction not halted its progress.
Clearly, the poor box spring had lost its way ‘twixt the small brick village nearby and Ye Olde Dumpstre.
One day, as I took a stroll along the Trail of Bike, I saw that some simple traveler (or perhaps a Box Spring Fairy?) had taken pity and extracted the wayward box from the wooded area, placing it on the grassy yard near the small village’s courts of tennis. Surely someone would notice it lying there and return it to its home — or at least help it finally find Ye Olde Dumpstre.
Alas, the poor box lay there through the rest of the summer, through the cold winds of autumn and blustery snows of winter, still lost and alone. And three weeks ago, as the spring flowers returned to the trees, it lay there still, filled with water from the melting snows.
One day, the Box Spring Fairy apparently took note, pushing it closer yet to the the courts of tennis. Perhaps finally some administrator from the small village would see it and take pity.
Huzzah! It did get moved one day! The laborers assigned to trim the grassy yard moved it aside … then moved it back.
Last week, the Box Spring Fairy tried once again, flipping the box head over heels several times until it came to rest standing against the fence surrounding the courts of tennis.
Today, it is gone. A happy ending.
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(posted 5/15/2026)
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