Today, I took Ross and Brooke to this old abandoned cranberry bog. When I was a little kid I use to spend almost all my time walking in and around the bogs, exploring the empty land and hoping that I might stumble on something amazing like the kids in The Goonies (which, along with the movie Gremlins, was a movie I watched on a weekly basis). I can recall many Saturday mornings where my brother, our friend Austin, and I would wake up at the crack of dawn and collect the bloated egg sacks that the frogs leave behind in the water. They were always filled with little soon to be tadpoles. So much condensed potential. At this point in time Austin is divorced and has a four year old daughter. We haven't spoken in years. A lot of the people that you are friends with when you are little seem to shape who you find yourself to be later on in life (i.e. Stephen King's Stand By Me).
The sheds that populate the overgrown area are littered with graffiti now. The white spray paint takes the shape of male genitalia, derogatory terms, drug paraphernalia, and symbols of hate. I guess these are what kids find funny.
Speak easy,
Neil
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