Imagination Playground

Below our house, down a steep hill or through a trail with pickers and leaves that crunch under your feet is the valley on our property. Every since I was small it had always been a magical place that held mystery in its thick mane of a forest. The small opening in a large wood was the perfect place for the golden sun to hit your rosy face during the summer time. When the spring showers were brought, the field was prosperous with green, shiny grass that glowed in the right lighting. You would enter the large area with the hopes to play a good game of soccer, or to lie and tan in the sun, or just dance around in the rain. You would go hunting in the new shed on top of that monstrous valley, that my father had attempt to build himself but ended up hiring workers because he was too busy with work, to find something to amuse your self. It was a small shed, one to hold a tractor or two. Sheds lined the ceiling for winter time when you would fly down the slopes of the steep hill. A rack on the right wall was lined with soccer balls, tennis balls (along with the rackets), basket balls, footballs, and bouncy balls to use when playing with our German Sheppard’s who enjoyed tearing up the well fertile grass. After finding something to amuse your small attention span you would enter into the field area. You would play in that thick grass that was well kept, maybe you would just be running around, making sure the dogs wouldn’t catch up to you, laughing while doing so. Or maybe you would fall asleep and wake up to the heated sunburn that crisped your dry skin. Maybe you would be hunting in the mysterious woods for the monsters that live under your bed, your brave sidekick by you at all times. Maybe you would go deep into the forest, trying to disperse your self from the mind numbing pain from the world around you. Maybe you’ll cuddle against a big oak tree and read a soothing book. But maybe the awesome thing about the valley was the adults that wouldn’t enter. Kids only, with the imagination span greater than attention. Anything goes.