January 10, 2003

outside.

You watch children in the country, and you know this is how it's supposed to be. Family insanity and dysfunction can't penetrate the thick borders of nature.

Inside the house, there isn't much sunlight, not much growth, stagnant. Destruction courtesy of adults.

But outside is the children's domain.

Run as far as you can, roll as fast as you can, climb as high as you can.



Dig holes that take you to new lands. Nothing but hands and knees and bare feet. Unearth treasures. Fly airplaines, chase soccer balls.



Moo back at the cows. Caw to the birds. Wind yoursef up, spin and jump, walk on your hands, and wear yourself out

When the sun sets and you go back inside, nothing can touch you. They can't break what nature built that day. Darkness can't get through. At least for this night. One night at a time.