Remembering a location from my childhood with sickening clarity
Romanticizing it and yearning for a youthful naivety which had long ago passed
Envisioning the circle of trees, two stumps in the center. The home of tea parties and fairy dances. A ray of sun beams down to the stumps from between the trees. The one-eyed cat pays a visit.
The long driveway is surrounded by cattails "hey, don't put that in your mouth!"
The cow farm on the other side of the street drifts in a distinct manure smell but it's not that strong when it reached the yard and it's almost comforting.
By day I go to school, where the motto is "it takes a village to raise a child."
Our decorated pinecones hang from trees which cast protective shadows over the picnic tables where we eat our lunch.
We dine on school-provided uncrustables and ignore the salad bar.
Connected to the cafeteria is the mini store. They sell us pencils and erasers with designs on them for school currency.
I read an entire rainbow fairy series in a day and then I play with Brenden, the boy with warts on his hands. He's my first crush.
By night I build snowmen with the neighbors kids and I swear that I sang "do you want to build a snowman" before Anna ever did.
We crawl in the collapsed camper to gossip and then we climb trees to sing. We dig holes to find rocks. Then we dig to find grubs.
I am seven years old and my biggest worry is the worms my neighbors would toss into our pool.
I don't yet understand how lucky and loved I am.
But I still believe in magic.
