Thursday, October 8, 2009

I Remember When...

I remember when most mornings, my dad would open the wooden gate to the driveway at the side of the house to let Willie out for her morning run.

I remember when how up on that hill, it was always dry and how the areas of the neighborhood that didn’t have asphault had instead dirt that was mostly granite gravel.

I remember how Willie would run down the side of the hill and be instantly lost in waist high schrubbery and brush that seemed like tinder.

I remember the morning sun making an orange glow on Willie’s brown fur and on the surrounding plants that contrasted with the dawn sky.

I remember running and crawling through the cayote trails with Willie trying to keep up with her, she having the advantage of four legs and endless energy.

I remember thinking to myself on many occasions that I must have passed very close to rattle snakes and was very lucky not to have had a direct confrontation with one.

I remember how one of the trails led to a make-shift fort that someone had built out of large sheets of wood and spongy yellow foam padding.

I remember that when I brought friends to the fort, we had the idea that if anything ever went wrong at home, we could come to the fort and have a safe place to stay.

I remember once telling my parents that if I ever ran away, I would go to a place they couldn’t find me, thinking of the fort.

I remember how my friend Christian and I would attach a leash to the back of our pant belt loops and throw it over the jungle gym bars and we’d hang like suspended monkeys until our belt loops snapped and down we’d fall to earth.

I remember how Christian and I would build dams out of mud in the back yard and then let the water bust through.