Exceptional Playing in four seasons Memories of My Youth by PENofFIRE "In My Day..." contest entry Artwork by VMarguarite at FanArtReview.com

I remember when childhood was a time when simple pleasures were enough to satisfy. The seasons were anticipated with excitement for what they represented. Change! The change brought the transferring of pleasures from the departing season to the evolving one. Change in the environment came due to summers spent at Grandma's, and the games we played, but most of all the sounds and scents that became etched in my mind and triggered so many of my childhood memories. Spring came with its promise of new life. Kite flayer's looked forward to March winds that chased away the cold of winter. The pungent scent of April showers, and the many puddles created for stomping through. Warm days caused children to come home from school dragging their jackets behind them, shirt tails pulled out, and sweaty faces. The scent of freshly turned soil of gardens being prepared for planting caused visions of eating warm tomatoes straight from the garden, doth taste of a variety of fruit plucked right from the trees, and corn picked fresh and cooked for that evening's supper. Soon spring ushered in the hot days of summer that stretched out welcoming arms to children at play. Sounds of little girl giggles could be heard as they raced around each other in games of tag and hide-and-seek, and of course, playing house and making mud pies. We took time to smell the flowers, hear the buzzing of bees and watch spiders weave their webs, all with fear and delight. Bike riding, with a playing card attached to the spokes with a clothespin, caused young minds to feel the thrill of racing motorcycles. Dinner and dishes done were the time for neighborhood children to gather in the street to play "kick the can" "red rover" and "Hopscotch." No need to worry about traffic since so few people owned "machines". The dreaded streetlights heralded the end of another day of play. Relief from the heat on muggy summer nights came by sleeping in front of the open living room door. And I must not forget to mention that churches in the summer would have been unbearable if it were not for the cardboard fans furnished by the local funeral parlor to remind us we would probably all die of the heat if it were not for their generous gift. Then there were the little fans that sat on the dashboards of "machines" to cool the driver. I always thought they were owned only by the wealthy, as everyone, I knew used the "440" version of air conditioning, four windows down, and driving 40 miles an hour. Once again, summer gave way to crisp cool days and the pageant of fall, as our Creator extended forth His hands, and with a flit of His fingers, rained down an array of colors that caused awe-inspired wonder from all. The scent of fall apples and burning leaves are all an integral part of the season. Hauling mounds of coal from the curb or driveway to coal bins was a necessary chore done with something less than enthusiasm. Raking leaves into piles, then bounding across the lawn to leap directly into the center, scattering hours of work back across the yard, was more fun than the need to rake it all again. All too soon, fall faded into the frosty days of winter. Freshly fallen snow covered with a fine dusting of coal was perfect for making snow angels and snow cones. Siblings racing in from hours of play created the daily fight for the few hot registers that brought toasty warmth to their nearly frozen bodies. Twilight brought skies painted with hues of pink, purple, and orange on a canvas of pending darkness. The earth seemed asleep in frozen stillness, with quietness closing in upon itself. Drawing the last breath of daylight, night descended like a curtain on the last act of a play. Stars and moon shown so brightly upon the freshly fallen snow, one revealed in the light of night, its beauty to behold. Holiday preparations and the anticipated visits from hordes of relatives and friends were a time of breathless excitement. Christmas morning came early, with a flurry of children racing to the tree to see what Santa brought. Breakfast over brought a day of play with new toys, games, and arguments as to what belonged to whom. Some things never change. Then, once again, the howling winter winds gave way to gentle spring breezes and the cycle of life began again.

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