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When I was a kid, the roads were just dirt, no blacktop; at least, not on the roads we lived on. I have heard that there was grass growing in the intersection until I was about six, but because I was too young to drive (even for the backwater part of the world I lived in), I do not remember this personally, so I can neither confirm nor deny these rumors. I can, however, confirm the rumors that party line telephones could be counted on to provide hours of voyeuristic entertainment.

And the rumors that rope tree swings can be hazardous to your health.

We lived less than a quarter of a mile, from my grandfather's farm; or rather, it was that far to his house. His land was less than 30 feet straight out the back door. Or the side door. He had 80 acres of land just begging to be explored, footprinted, cataloged, and conquered. From the black, soggy, rip your shoes right off your feet "Muck Marsh" to the top of "Sledding Hill" in the "Field of Boulders", even to "The Back Forty", every inch of that land beckoned with a quiet, beguiling voice - "Come here. Look over here. You have to see this. No, this way. There's a new family of Canadian Geese on the creek this year. There's a deer run back in the corner of this field. There's more to see back in the corner"

There was a boulder, gargantuan, even among the others in the Field of Boulders. It was taller than I was until I was seven or eight, and it had been King of its brethren in that field for tens of thousands of years. On the south and west, a small grove of birch and fir trees ("The Forest", or "Sherwood" or "Bunyan's Woods" depending on the day, the latest book I was reading, or the current bent of my imagination) grew to within feet of this rock, and stretched away in a swath about 30 feet wide and twice that deep. The other two directions were open field, falling away on a gentle slope to the east and south east and traveling up the south side of Sledding Hill looking north. The rock was situated in such a way as to be within shouting distance of my folk's house, and just out of sight due to the lay of the land. A perfect spot for a young boy to be king of the world for a day, or an astronaut bound for the moon and still make it home in time for dinner.

Perched atop the rock, you could see birds and bird nests in the trees. If you listened close, you could hear the song of the bullfrogs from the creek to the south. Sometimes, if you sat silent and still for long enough, the chipmunks would venture out

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