Imagination

A few months back, I was sitting on my porch relaxing, watching the world go by when I noticed the little neighbor girl, who is probably about 5.  She was sitting on the windowsill talking animatedly to her playmate, which was her shadow being cast on the adjacent wall.  She chatted on, one hand on her hip, the other waving in the air with emphasis — lost in her private fantasy.

A few weeks later, I noticed these two little boys playing on the stoop of a beachfront bar. There were a few rocks between them.  Maybe the older brother was teaching the younger one how to play jacks?  How’s that for some “Leave It To Beaver” flashback.