Over the Fence
I remember the giant field that was just a house away from my parents’ house and how I could tell what season it was by what it was being used for.
I remember how in the fall the field was used for corn and how in the spring it was used for alfalfa or cotton and how at the start of summer it was used for lazy sheep to graze and get fat.
I remember when there were no crops or livestock in the field and it was just dirt and tumbleweeds and how the desert wind picked up the earth in wild dust storms and dirt devils would race onto my street.
I remember venturing out with my brother, jelly jars in hand, to the center of the field and capturing tiny black and red lady bugs before sun down, just to compare who could catch more before our mother called us back for supper.
I remember how shocked I was when they put up a fence around the field with no trespassing signs posted and when I saw the giant earth movers roaring their engines trying to produce man made hills and lakes for a retirement community golf course.
I remember how mad I was that someone had taken away my refuge and how I took it out on the Porto potties every once and a while just to let out some frustrations.
I remember when the grass came in and the sidewalks were built how quickly I stopped being mad and how we bought frozen blocks of ice to sit on and slide down the grassy hills with on long summer days.
I remember skate boarding to a spot on the course overlooking a lake where I would listen to my music and watch as the wind passed through the trees and over the water creating tiny waves that moved from one side all the way to the other where I sat, escaping.
I remember the smell of the fresh cut grass and the cold sting of the unsuspected sprinklers and the duck families and the old people and the trees and the wide open sky at the edge of the city where storms could roll up or the stars could stretch out further than my eyes could see.
But most of all I remember how wonderful it was to have a place to escape to and ease my thoughts with only the blistering sun or the chilling winds of the changing seasons to keep me company.