I remember.
I remember when it was safe to be a kid and go outside to play. I lived in a rural area on four acres and my neighbor had fifty two acres of fields and forests and a pond. We left early morning and played building forts in the forest and played cowboys and Indians. We played horses romping around all day. A neighborhood boy taught me to ride my first bike. Boys bike, that was an experience, ouch. We would sit on the roof of the garage afterwards and eat apples with a load of salt on them. We were free.
We learned to swim and skate on that pond. Baby brother tried. Mom tied his skates, he stood up fell and broke his leg. My aunt had to hike out to drive back to the house to get a board to carry him out. The older boys next door use to spin us around that pond with ropes tied to our flying saucers, do you remember them? Ha, we were dizzy and laughing with joy after ending up in a snowbank. Sadly one of my friends died in that pond. He and his brothers built a raft. It fell apart. He could not swim. I was young and attended his funeral, a small white casket.
Back then it was a more trusting world, no cell phones and few worries. I wish we had that now.
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