The red barn.

The red barn.

Must have a “red” theme going this week.

A couple of weeks ago, I happened to notice a fantastic, yet abandoned, red barn on our way home from Boulder. This spot pretty summed up every day of summer for me growing up. Grass that’s too long tickling your legs as you run through it, looking for a creek to throw a few rocks or your fishing line into and hope to get something more back than a crawdad or an old can. Dusty roads that turn back on themselves and head toward fantasy places, like secret gardens, rabbit holes, or soft patches of Earth where you could accidentally fall asleep while watching clouds. And the smell of clean and dirt, all over and all at once.

It just made me happy, this new found spot. And I wanted to take my boys there. I’d like to take them back every day, to get dirty and muddy in the horse trodden patches and then scrubbed clean by the water running through the creek. Time just slows down here.

It’s my own little time travel machine.

But if you’d like to know where it is, I’d be happy to share.

Places like this are priceless. More precious, in fact, than the prettiest gems and the most lucrative stocks. And you know it, because I can see your own wheels turning back time to your favorite summer and the memories you have tucked away about it.

And just look at these boys. Happy as…well…happy as boys.

Hope it took you back for a bit. Now go stick your bare toes into the grass and enjoy life a little. Ok. A lot.

And thank you to Kim Jones Photography for the lovely evening.

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