Come to think of it, I do remember a green pasture in Florida.
When I was 6 or 7, I always had to stay after school until 5 before one of my parents could pick me up. My dad was busy with graduate school. My mom was working, trying to help ends meet. So I read in the library while I waited for one of them to come fetch me. These days, there is no way that any respectable elementary school would allow a child to wander off beyond the watchful eyes of a school employee. Back when I was 6 or 7, however, no one blinked an eye when a young child decided to go out by himself to play in the brown-green grass that grew under the Florida sun.
One day, I became tired of reading Curious George, Homer Price and Encyclopedia Brown. I looked out the window, looked at the lawn, and I had an urge to run on it. I closed my book and returned it to the proper place on the shelf and walked out out of the library. When I stepped onto the grass I ran as fast as I could. When you are 6 or 7, no matter how slow or fast you are, you always feel fast when you run by yourself. I felt fleet of foot. I must have been running against the wind because it whistled against my ears, making me feel as though I was running even faster than I was. I still remember when I stopped running, only because I couldn’t run any longer. I was heaving in deep breaths and smiling.
And now, here I am. I am still running. When I stop, heaving deep breaths, I hope I will be smiling.
