This was my magical place growing up. My creek. My water hole. My trees. A lot of make believe and pretending took place here. I love this spot. It is not far from the porch of where I grew up. Some days Mom would watch me play, other times I just stayed down there for hours by myself. It reminded me of a magical forest with fairies and little nymphs. Have you ever seen Legend of the Unicorn? That's what it reminded me of.
So, I went home this last weekend and I stood there looking at my favorite spot. It makes me miss being a child. Being able to dream about unicorns and fairies. Pretending I'm stranded on a deserted island. Playing like it was my outside kitchen. I guess just missing the innocence of childhood. Because as we all know, now we are adults, doing adult things. It can suck some days. But then, I go home. I go home and see that it is still there. No one goes down there anymore except the occasional horse to take a drink or dog to take a summer bath. When I go home though, I go there. And I remember that just because I'm adult doesn't mean I can't still dream about life being a little magical.