The little things

Sometimes I think about those days before I was permanently attached to a computer 8 hours out of my day. I used to go for long walks as a teenager to my favorite park. Franklin Park. It had towering beautiful trees and green grass that stretched over several acres. The grassy terraces that we used to dare each other to roll down or slide down on the snow in the winter are welcoming images of my coming of age. Another thing I think about is when I used to write. I had 11 journals by the age of 11 years-old. I loved the smell of a newly sharpened No. 2 pencil and the sound it made as it glided along the paper. Words that I couldn't or wouldn't divulge to others made it to a permanent home in my journal. I just recently rediscovered the beauty of writing, not on a computer, but with my No. 2 pencil. It's the same feeling I used to get. I need to do it more often and get back a bit to my roots.