by Louweeze

Created on: September 16, 2008

Quiet, reserved, and terribly introverted, my favorite place as a child was away from people.

This meant outside - anywhere outside.

Woods and meadows surrounded my home in all directions. My childhood was rooted in deep country living.

At any time of day, and any time of year my haven was in fresh air, in an environment bereft of laughing, judging and condescending people. Rather, the clouds, mud-pond frogs, fluttering butterflies, flitting fireflies, tall trees, swaying ferns, the day's warm sun, the night's blue moon, and my imaginative dreams - were my companions.

My 'outside world' had no real dangers. I could possibly fall from a tree, stumble head-on into a hidden cow patty or small boulder while bounding down a pasture knee-high with grass, plunge head-on into an icy stream while tobogganing, or be chased between barbed-wire fencing by a cow. Otherwise, the great outdoors was, for me, a safe and enchanting refuge. And except for the longer excursions deeper into the woods, I was usually barefoot. Fresh country air, constant activity, and an abundance of energy kept my body lithe and healthy.

School didn't deter me from seeking out my favorite companions either. I did try to make friends at school, but I found them silly and hurtful. The nuns frightened me. I was only to learn at school, and get decent grades - that was all. I made that decision just a few years into elementary school. It gained mom and dad's approval too.

Recess was a small reprieve from classes, as it was spent outside. Only one sport got me into a competitive arena and cavorting with other classmates - baseball. One year, armed with my own bat and ball, I became pitcher of the game. But it was to be short-lived. After a momentous pitch, the ball went straight from the bat to my right eye. Horn-rimmed glasses followed - and 'four-eyes.' My baseball career ended, as did any attempt to be a part of a group of kids. I had no other such sporting skills, and even less desire to have friends.

As I entered middle school, my activities changed little. When autumn arrived, even walks in town amongst all the browns, oranges, reds, and yellows gave me solace. The smell of rich earth filled my nostrils. Each year I collected the colors of autumn, to be reminded, until they themselves turned brown and crumbled.

When snow arrived, gliding across the blanketed meadows and unplowed roads in my plastic toboggan thrilled me. At night, the moon and an occasional owl kept me company, lighting the way and almost

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