The Gravedigger
a fable for founders
Once, there was a man who wandered around a lot. He was a cheerful man, loved people, liked helping out. Everyone liked him because of how enthusiastically he pitched in and helped them solve problems. He was a clever guy and he whistled beautifully.
People envied him his industry and his good mood.
One day, he crested a new hill and discovered a beautiful view. As far as he could see, nature laid beauty in forest and farmland. An azure river glimmered through it all with the promise of travel. Deciduous trees shaded the high, grassy spot, and around him, the boulders were solid and sparkled with immutable granite. As he breathed deeply of the loam-scented air, a yellow breasted songbird hopped fearlessly along a maple branch not far from a nest where two little ones peeped. His gaze rested on a soft blue line far on the horizon, and he knew he was glimpsing the ocean.
“I wouldn’t mind being buried here,” the guy said to himself.
It was strange, the first time he had ever thought beyond his own life. In the distance, the ocean glimmered like riches just out of reach.
The only problem was that the spot was clearly a place where teens had partied for years. Littered with pipes and tin cans, McWrappers and cups to the point that there was nowhere to sit and contemplate…
