From Home To The Ball Field

I was ten years old.

I was pedaling my bike like mad.

Riding from home to the ball field to watch a soccer game.

I remember the smell of flowers on that road that made me sweat riding there, but coming back I flew with the wind in my hair and my feet out.

That smell was amazing.

I wouldn’t have smelled it in the car.

I was free!   No worries.  No responsibilities.  No stress.

I had ice cream when I got home.

It was so amazing in it’s simplicity.

And I knew happy.

It’s the kind of feeling you can’t pretend into existence.

Oh I wasn’t ten.

That was yesterday.

What a great interlude to being a grown up.