There were plenty of adventures to be had in the forest behind my neighborhood. The paths to take and the rocks to upturn were in abundance. Local neighborhood children and I were determined to make that forest our own. Ever minute that our parents gave us to play, were spent in that forest. We made tree houses and forts; most which never lasted longer then a week. Nothing that happened at home or school could ever make us despondent because, we always had the forest to escape to. Summer afternoons were spent laying down on a blanket, looking up through the trees at clouds as they glided along, holding various shapes. As you admired the clouds the cool summer breeze would drift across your sweaty forehead creating utopia. When the sky was clear we would appreciate the trees. The way the summer breeze would make them rustle. They would swing and sway; on occasional a leaf would loosen it's grip of the branch and float gloriously to the ground. The leaf's dance wasn’t completed until it hit the floor below, it's grand finale was filled with numerous swoops and spins until at last it reached its bitter end, the ground. Following the leaf with your eyes compelled you to see the other dances within the forest. The dance of the wild flowers held more elegance. They seemed to be aware of the flowers around them, and adjusted their dance moves accordingly; moving as one cohesive unit. Bardin 2
At midday when that aching pain in our stomach appeared, we all went our separate ways to gather food for the afternoon picnic. My mother would send me off with a peanut butter sandwich and an apple. Biting into the apple was always beatific. The sweet, cool juice would never fail to quench my thirst and appeal to my appetite. The peanut butter was always thick in my mouth, making me ache for a cold, tall glass of milk. Lunch went by fast because everyone...
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