The guy across the street is mowing his yard. I’ve got the windows and patio door open here in the computer room. The smell of fresh mown grass is wafting up. It takes me back to my childhood. I loved laying out in the grass after it had been mown. We had a big shade tree out in our front yard and in the summer time I’d spread an old quilt out and sit there and read and draw and work crossword puzzles (that was one of my mother’s favorite pastimes). I’d also play with my Barbie dolls. When I was tired, I’d just lay down on the quilt and take a nap. Right there in the front yard under the tree. Well, it was the mid-1960s and we didn’t really have to worry about kiddoes being snatched up out of their yards back then. At least I never worried about it. And neither did my mother. She knew I’d stay right there, and not roam the neighborhood.
But I loved laying there and looking up at the tree and seeing the sunlight peeking through the leaves. There would be just enough shade to be comfortable, just enough sunlight to feel nice and warm and sleepy.
And along with that smell came the sense of peace and well being and security. It’s something you only feel as a child, I think. Once you’re grown and have adult responsibiities, unless you’ve “self medicated,” then you’re not likely to feel this way again.
But I thank the man next door for a small glimpse back to those days.