Frog Pond = My Childhood

It's such a thought provoking experience to watch my kids do the things that I did when I was their age.

Things like riding their bikes in the liberty days parade, swimming at Grandma Gwen's, and eating dinner on the front lawn just because.

And going here. This beautiful magical place we named Frog Pond.

It's not on my parent's property, but since there's no one living anywhere close to this place, we assumed it was ours and moved right in. It's about a half mile from my Mom's, in the neighboring hillside valley.

It's name isn't very original, but the Frogs are so loud we really couldn't have named it anything else. When you get close you have to walk very quietly and sneakily, to make sure you're not disturbing any bathing moose.

But once the coast is clear, happiness reigns! We built a real-deal log-and-rope raft when we were kids. I don't remember the details (like how we got it to the pond) but it was there for our blissful entertainment whenever we ventured over. I can't count how many times we "accidentally" fell off that thing, to go splashing then squishing into the foot-deep mud at the bottom of the shallow pond. Judging by this face, it looks like the pond still holds it's magic. I can hear the frog's now...