My Fire Hydrant

My cousin Steve gave me a fire hydrant and I love it. I don't know exactly where I'm going to put it; I'm not generally a fan of lawn ornaments. It's very, very heavy, at least for my girly muscles. This morning I rolled it out of the back of the van and shimmied it, inch by inch, out of the middle of the driveway toward the rock garden. Steve works for a water utility in a southern state. He came by the hydrant legally; his company replaced all of the hydrants in a community that was built prior to 1968 when asbestos may or may not have been used in the linings of the water pipes. The hydrant reads "Mueller 5/14." Newer hydrants, Steve explained, allow just as much water to flow through them as the older varieties but with a smaller form factor. So my hydrant is "bulky" compared to the modern types. It's a relic. I love what the hydrant symbolizes: water in the time of need, saving lives, public access (and dogs:). It will remind me of the this time in our lives, when we are so painfully aware of the frailty of life itself. Another cousin recently lost his life in an accidental drowning. His children, his friends, and his first wife are haunted by the tragic way he died and they are deeply affected by the this sudden loss.