My Favorite Place To Play

I know that I am not very good at keeping my blog up to date. I wish I could be better, but alas, with school starting up, the beginning of the year is just a crazy time for me. I am looking forward to after Thanksgiving. Things usually settle down a little after that, and I can think straight.



This week, my students were given a writing prompt where they had to describe their favorite place to play. They had to share what it felt like, smelled like, and the sounds they heard when they were there. So, I began to remember my favorite place to play as a child. I smile as I think about it. It truly was one of my favorite places to be. No worries, no stresses, no one to bother me. Allow me to share a favorite memory.



I grew up in the Up Country of New York, nestled in the valley of one of the Catskill mountains. It was beautiful. Twenty seven acres of luscious green farm land and forest. It was an amazing place to play and explore. I have grown to realize the lost art of our imagination. Sometimes I even forget what it was like back then to imagine a world that was all my own. But, when I think back to my younger years, the imagination was such a huge part of my life. The first 16 years of my life, I only had two younger brothers, so playing with dolls and dishes wasn't always my first option. Being outdoors was.



Back behind my house, there were the enchanted woods that held all my childhood secrets and stories. I loved it so much that I wrote in a diary about this place, including a self-created map of all the special places that were found there, as well as where I hid treasures for safe keeping. No one knew of my diary, maps, or where I hid it. I actually had a register in my room that I would take out and hide my writings underneath it. Sometimes, I even hid secret messages in the light socket of my room. I would take off the face plate and hide it inside. =) Yes, I was a very sneaky child. But, how fun it was.



Falls Gully. That was the name I gave to my secret place in the Enchanted woods. I made secret paths that wound their way to and from exciting places. Several were my favorite. There was the creek, in which I climbed down into during the summer to pick sweet red raspberries. There was the climbing tree, where I would climb up and view the neighbors field next door that was full of grazing sheep and wild horses. There was the Brier patch; a secret hideout that you couldn't see from the outside, but was a jungle of adventure on the inside. There was the secret stash; a hole I dug out that was about 4 feet wide and 2 feet deep with a board over top and leaves and sticks on top of it. I stashed all my "emergency supplies under it, and had just enough room for me to climb in and lay down in case of an "ambush." Then there was the hidden field; my favorite place to walk. It was nestled behind the farmers field next door. Our family owned half of it, and sometimes I would quietly walk up to the top of our mountain to see if I could see any deer or rabbits escaping there for some peace, but then stand right in the middle of the hidden field, take a deep breath of the exhilarating, fresh mountain air, and look out beyond the trees at the rolling hills that were miles away in the distance. What a feeling. I believe in those moments I caught a glimpse of life as God intended. I hope I never forget those memories. Right now, as I think about them, it feels like it was just yesterday. If I could only step back to my childhood, where I had no big worries, no feelings of pain, no stresses or cares in the world. Just peace and safety. I guess I would call it the happiness of innocence. I count it a blessing from the Lord that He gave me imagination and the power of memory.