LAST SATURDAY I spent most of the afternoon puttering in the yard. It was still a bit chilly but reasonable. I got some yardwork done and started a fire with all the sticks and limbs downed over the winter.
A few houses down the alley live Jim and Donna. They have grandkids. They were over for Easter Saturday and I think there was an Easter egg hunt. There was lots of giggling and bellowing and excitement. At one point, little brother said, "I don't know HOW to battle!"
"That's okay. We will teach you," said older sister, barely able to contain her laughter.
On the other side of the street, in the alley, three young boys were shooting hoops. They were out there all afternoon. Dribble dribble dribble SWOOSH. Or, dribble dribble dribble CLUNK and "you missed!"
When I stuck my head out in the early evening, they were still shooting.
All of these sounds are music to my ears. We live in a world of iPods and video games and you don't see kids running around just playing. It should happen more often.
Seems to me on Rue Mercier, Riverside Drive and Rosewood the Hart kids were always outside. I was smacking a hockey puck on a frozen driveway, pitching against the back of the garage wall or on a hunt for golf balls at the nearby golf course. I walked down railroad tracks and disappeared into woods and creeks and into off the trail hiding places. All you needed was imagination. The setting was always there.
More sounds of kids playing and laughing, please. It makes everything better.