Kicking the can down the road
I reached over and picked up the can I found along the roadside and looked at it before I tossed it into a nearby trashcan. It carried me back to the carefree days when such a find would result in me kicking the can down the road for a ways.
Summer always was filled with the endless opportunity of adventures that emanated from within my head.
The can would eventually land in the edge of the woods lying by an oak stick. I would pick it up, take out my pocketknife and peel off the bark. That stick became my musket as I set out towards the fort that my friends and I had built earlier in the summer.
The stack of limbs on three sides hid a huge pile of pinecones that were collected and stored away for the next battle.
It was a weekly occurrence; my friends and I set out to re-create the frontier battles of our ancestors as they faced off with the indigenous people in the Appalachian Mountains and along the frontiers.
I always fancied myself in the roles of my cousins Daniel Boone or Davy Crockett but sometimes I also got to take on the roles of my Native American ancestors as well.
The adventures would shift as my friends and I would swap roles at times and switch to Civil War battles with some of us being Yankees and some Confederates.
No matter who we were in our play, we always got pelted with pinecones until one group out maneuvered the other, captured the fort, or ran out of ammo.
Ultimately our adventures filled our afternoons, exhausting our rambunctious natures in brief until we refocused our energies or one of us heard a motherly call to come home.
There were no personal computers and no phones that were not attached to a wall. Bicycles got us where we wanted to go, unless that motherly call meant we were headed that afternoon to town for a looking or feeling trip in an air-conditioned store or maybe to see a matinee.
Either way, we would be back in time so dinner would be on the table by six, and there would still be time for an evening baseball game on the street before the streetlights came on and we had to be in to clean up for bed.
I would kneel down by my maple twin bed and thank the Lord for the day, and ask Him to keep my parents, my friends and I safe through until another day dawned.
Those memories are still a blessing to me. I hope you have ones that bring a smile to your face and place a song in your heart.
