I remember it well...

This morning, I couldn't help but reminisce about the times I'd ride down the hill to "the swamp", which was actually nothing more than a lovely place to escape on my rickety, old blue Schwinn bike, when I was a kid and just wanted to dream alone.

To me, it was the most enchanted place I'd ever seen. Just an old, bent gray culvert with a muddy old pond below, filled with tons of little tadpoles and green algae. Oh, how I loved that place. The sound alone, was enchanting. I watched as the cutest little tadpoles scurried about after a sweet smelling rain and creepy, black spiders with very long legs, scurried through the mud, then across the sacred algae-filled pond.

I loved watching the bluish-green dragonflies, as they flew overhead (and kind of scared me). I listened to the enchanting low ribbit of little green frogs and melody of yucky, ugly black crickets. This was my world now. And I loved it!