I don't own a picture of this particular memory to show you, but I still have the perfect picture of it in my head. I was fortunate to live in the same house for over 20 years and always chose the same patch of grass in the backyard to lay down on and stare into the sky. Sometimes I would pick that spot to daydream or see what shape I could pick out of the clouds. Other times I'd simply lay there to soak up the sun and burn, baby, burn (my skin is not thanking me today for that memory.) Then there were the days I would take a blanket, a book and some iced tea to my spot and abandon it to dissect a single blade of grass or watch the tiny bodies of bugs scurry by as Whitney-the-giant overhead watched. No matter what I was there for it always felt right, and relaxing. It still does.
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