Brown patches in the grass now replaced with artificially grown green stems. This of course in pure sake of aesthetic. Imagine a soccer field, a tennis court, a football and baseball area all in one. Over the years, my back yard was that. Filled with loud giggles of hiding children, cries from a teen who’d slipped on a lose brick and teared their mud stained jeans and today its served purpose is for those semi- annual visitors of our next generation. Had my backyard been enclosed with the four walls my home is, I’d reference a likable comparison to if these walls can talk…. they can’t.

Sunny skies, autumn breezed leaves, rainy days, and sleet field long dark and gloomy winters were our four ever evolving seasons. Poof, just like that I blinked, and gone. At the age of five, I recall when I used to jump a little while throwing the basket ball in aim of the hoop, at the time the attached net towered feet over me. Now, not much shorter than the 6 foot tall rim slightly above my head. Almost 17 years later and I now stand at 5’6 and quarter.

As the wind sways me in a front and backward motion on my swing, I play out scenes of my youth in my head. Immediately an overwhelming amount of descriptive detailing aiding me in my ability to paint imagery almost as realistic as the very recollection of my memories. My siblings, relatives, friends and myself all taking our tumbles on the grass or over our snow forts on our snow days that we later replaced in the near coming spring.

From the 90’s to 2000’s I had both ironically and unknowingly ventured through life, right here, in my backyard.

                                         To all who may come across this very piece, I urge you that you as I take in everyday of every year stimulating every one of your five senses. With my spoken word to the wise that you don’t forget to remember yester-past. Conscious that with everything you do before the nights late sunset, that you will be awoken by the next days ironically light marking of a sunrises very eerie reality. 


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