It seemed to tremble under my hand when I first touched it in the market, which was one of the reasons I bought it. I am just a groundskeeper at an elementary school, but I take care of my tools. I buy them carefully, and use them the same way.
The more you work with tools, the more they gain personalities of their own. I can hear their voices as we work together. The high, ringing voice of the hammer; the dull mumble of the snow shovel, grumbling querulously as it bites at the icy buildup on the steps; even the acerbic snip of the pruning shears as it cuts back errant branches.
But the broom speaks softly. It whispers to me as I pull it smoothly over the brick path. In the fall, I hear it speaking every day, murmuring softly to the fallen gingko leaves as it pushes them into piles. It, more than any other, seems to take pleasure in the work we do together and so, when we are finished for the day, I let it rest for an hour or so in the sun as a reward for its hard work.
taken in Soyang, Korea
The Green-Walled Tower 
February 17th, 2013 at 4:10 am
Ah, the broom speaks softly. I think that does capture the spirit of a broom nicely.
February 22nd, 2013 at 9:22 am
I picture it as the shy, quiet one that cleans up everyone else’s messes. 🙂
February 19th, 2013 at 10:59 pm
well, he must be a wizard then!
February 22nd, 2013 at 9:16 am
Maybe. 🙂 I didn’t want to go Fantasia with it, but give some hint of personality to the broom.
May 8th, 2013 at 2:35 pm
Objects used everyday seem to have a personality of their own and the narrator’s relationship with the broom is well-captured