A storybook evening

Last night I went exploring with a friend. We traipsed through the woods behind my house and talked about how fairies and gnomes lived in the ivy that carpeted the ground and the dry fallen trees the we walked across. Then, we walked across the street to the old folks' facility. We had the place to ourselves (outside), so we stood looking at a willow tree reminiscing about our childhoods and wishing that the tendrils of the tree came down to the ground, so we could hide in them. Our travels led us around the backside of the facility, and we walked next door to the medical facilities lane. After scrambling over gigantic rocks, and gazing at Orion, we came across a residential area, and sat down beside a picturesque pond. We had to duck down when a plane flew overhead, lest it see us, and be made aware of our presence on a strangers' lawn. We talked and laughed and wished we had a little boat. Finally, I said something too loud, and the dog across the pond started barking. We stood up and ran back down the road we had come from, simply for the thrill of pretending like we were running away.

I felt like a kid, but an adult-kid. Now I can appreciate being a kid. Thanks, Ian, for bringing out the kid in me.