childhood memories

~iceland~

113010

My father would pick us up in his little navy blue MGM, I would squoosh into the back "seat", and we drove down to the rink. I remember the smell of the black rubber that led you to the ice and the awkwardness of trying to "walk" on it in the skates. The feeling right before I would fall, of being off balance, my heart beat quickening and adrenaline rushing. The wobbling of my ankles. The thrill of picking up speed and then turning abruptly to audibly slice through the ice and come to clean stop. The cold air entering my lungs. Watching my warm breath as I exhaled. The ease with which my brother glided across the ice. Ease which he exhibits rarely in life.

~from the tree walk~

113010

The two cypress trees had been topped before we moved into the house on Santa Barbara Road. After Pa finished the deck that gracefully skirted along the house, he decided to build a tree-walk. You could walk out 50 feet through the trees and sit on a bench at the end to enjoy the view of the Bay. On the weekends we would sit there in our pajamas and bathrobes, after breakfast, drinking our cups of tea. We would wave to the neighbors eating breakfast in their kitchen.