Here's my view this morning . . . after I cleaned out the garage, mowed the lawn, chatted with my sister and did five loads of laundry. I lay on the hammock and stared up at these leaves full of maple pods with the sun streaming through the green leaves, making me think of summers as a child. I remember reaching up and pulling down the seed pods and carefully braking open the thick, sticky pod top and sticking them on my nose, my ears, and on my fingers. I remember making dandelion chains for my hair and wrists and finding tiny buttercups and holding them under our chins to see if we loved butter. I remember playing ring around the rosy over and over again and running as fast as I could everywhere I went just because I could. I lay there, on the hammock, and let memories of my childhood wash over me and soak into my bones. Everything relaxed; my body, my mind, my spirit. How have I lost that ability to just be so pre...