Technicolor Skys
You can't tell a whole lot about that day from the picture. You can't see the endless green grass on rolling anthills that stretched farther than geographically possible. Nor the pale, pale blue sky stretched even farther than the grass or the high-noon sun that just barely blocked out those formless technicolor flying creatures set loose by giddy caretakers. All there is, is half my face, mouth open wide, tongue stuck out, smiling. I was probably laughing as I ran, my crimson fleece jacket contrasting vividly with the patch of grass behind me as my hair flew wildly in the blustery winds. It wasn't until I was fifteen that my Dad (far left) and I drove past that park again. It looked nothing like I remembered it. I couldn't have been older than four or five the day we went to the park. It had been early fall and the leaves had just barely started to change. I wouldn't have noticed it, but my Mom(far left) and Aunt (far right) had been talking about returning to ta...