Friday, April 17, 2009

sometimes

When I was little my house was out in the country and there were fields that spread out to the base of the mountains. An irrigation ditch ran through those fields, and gigantic trees stetched up to the sky all along the banks of the lazy flowing water. Those trees must have been planted by the pioneers that settled my beautiful hometown mountain valley.
I loved to climb up into those trees and look up at the leaves blowing in the breeze. On hot summer days it was the perfect place to cool off and listen to the bubbling water.

That place is gone now. Except in my memory.

It's okay, though. I'm happy with the place I'm in now.