THAT is Childhood

I looked out on the freshly cut grass this evening and saw two white blotches. I didn't plant any blotches. If you've heard anything of my horticultural prowess I'll probably get a rousing "Amen" on that.

Squinting to get a closer look (because that's how things are done after 40), I noticed they were socks. A visiting seven-year-old friend had headed down the hill to feed the horses. Who does that with shoes on? En route he divested himself of anything that separated him (or at least his feet) from Nature. That's so cool. I nearly had the damn things bronzed so we could leave them on the front yard as a reminder of how to be young. Childhood is sweet.

Be kids, kids.