Submitted by Nathan Bolls

Last Friday had a typical beginning: alarm clock, squashing a cockroach or two, breakfast, shaving and dressing, and reviewing my list of things-to-do-today. Fellow travelers on the short-term-memory-loss trail will relate to that list-checking ritual.

The first item of business was (at his request) to drop off at our CEO's office my final recommendations for growing (as a surreptitious cash crop) a small patch of Cannabis in a remote spot on campus.

The second item was to walk our MLH trails to check how the birth of spring is progressing. Scanning 360 degrees from the pond dam revealed that plants are beginning to celebrate Irish green in earnest. I saw hints that some of the dogwood blossoms will be purple this year. A set of two-toed raccoon tracks added mystery to the water's edge. A barred owl had waded out into the pond and was peering down as if hoping to spear a fish.

Suddenly preoccupied with the adjoining K-State cattle pasture, I saw one of the lithe ones cavorting about. The sun was reflecting off of something that seemed to be growing out from the middle of the animal's forehead.  Unicalf?  Those scientists working on genetic modification of organisms are out of control.

I retreated to the peaceful trail through the woods between Kimball and the Meadowlark Valley cottages. But I soon flushed a rabbit-like creature full of flurry and fury. Headed uphill toward the stand of conifers near Kimball, the animal ran through the brush on its hind legs, but bent over.  It gave the impression of wearing a short thick coat with thick belt and a dark, narrow-brimmed hat. And, I swear it had a beard! Pythons in Florida, now Leprechauns in Kansas!? Enough already!

I scurried home, curled up under my "suckie blanket" in my recliner rocker, and contemplated the print, hanging on my living room wall, of a Breughel painting that depicts Icarus falling into the sea after having flown too near the sun. And I vowed to never ever again go hiking on April 1st.