A Boy like I was

As I clicked the shutter, I thought about a boy who might have grown up on this property.

This little valley. This fold in the land, with its hill and rocks and bushes, and all the life a piece of ground like this can support: birds, deer, snakes, lizards.

For a boy like I was, it would have been a never-ending adventure.

I’d have dragged limbs together and built a fort. Sat sentry on the crest of that hill. Chopped and hacked my way through the brambles just to see what was on the other side. Pitched a pup tent on any flat spot and called it camp.

I’d have hunted rabbits and squirrels with a BB gun. Brought friends over after school. Played war with crackling walkie-talkies. Hide-and-seek until dark. Raced remote-control trucks through the dirt ruts, sending them bouncing and spinning through the dust.

And I’d have struck matches to piles of sticks then leaned back, satisfied, breathing in the sage smoke.