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Dec 2013
Sun crashing through the windows and spilling all over the breakfast table.

Squinted eyes looking out at the everything. Focused out there: Trees. Grass. Light. Dirt. Adventure.

Fruity pebbles drenched in whiteyellow light.

The creaky screen door and the blue steps.

Chipped paint. Splintered wood.
  
The smell of fresh cut grass.

The smell of dirt caked to our bodies.

The smell of heat and sweat and summer. 

A Baseball glove lying half hidden in the grass.  

A bike parked under the biggest evergreen tree in the world.  

A skateboard under your moms beat up rusty car.

Hands digging through dirt searching for some ancient secret. 

Super secret plans drawn on paper towels.  

****** kneecaps and wooden playgrounds.  

The sound of tires on gravel.

The sound of your laugh.

The sound of your sister crying.

The sound of bodies slapping against the water.  

The creek.

Deeper, longer and more profound than any other creek on the planet.

The woods.

The endless woods and all the beautiful and terrifying things they offered us every day.

The forever extending ripple my bobber sent through the ***** water of that small pond.

My back against the blades of green.

The dipping sun.

The puffs of white in the sky and branches dancing.

Unlimited.

All encompassing.  

Magic.  

Pure.

Beautiful innocent ignorance.  

Freedom.
Written by
Joe P  Boulder
(Boulder)   
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