This may look like a photo to abort, but it is a treasure to me. I remember every detail of every part of every thing in this photo. My red shoes. My bobby socks. The green and yellow metal swing set with wingnut screws and bolts holding it together. The fence I learned to walk on, balancing myself with a bamboo pole (I walked it 100s of times). The corn tank swimming pool. The alfalfa field that separated our house from Grandma’s and the permanent trail we made between us. The Zinnias my mother planted along that fence and how stiff their leaves were. Red ants lived in that dirt. The gravel driveway. When it rained I got a cup and collected the prettiest rocks (by the hour). Warm grass. Four-leaf clovers. Feeling the clip that snapped in my hair as the wind blew as I would swing. Cutting my chin on the drinking fountain in the back yard. Shep, our blonde German Shepherd. Tricycles and bicycles. Crickets at night. The smell of Swallowtail butterflies. Irrigation water. Hot hot sun. Kool aid and homemade popsicles. Mosquito bites. Sprinklers. Catching Sphinx Moths with cupped hands in the evenings. Window screens. And going to bed feeling sweaty.
It was all good. Very very good.