The old, wooden gate is the only thing that separates the backyard from the open adventurous woods. The times when Opa would unlatch the bending fence and drag it open, my brother and I stood there anxiously waiting. No matter what season and with just enough room to pass through with our toys we would run or hobble in and start the many adventures we had. If the whole family was there, the parents and California uncles, we would play hide-and-seek. Making our way to the rows of big pine trees on the left and finding a partner, we find a good place for hiding. Between the poky pine needles and tall, stiff grass, bugs hopping from place to place and us checking for bears. We find a little place to stay while the seeker walks around. I look at the big world around me. I wonder if anybody else is playing hide-and-seek somewhere? The common question is always asked,

"Where is everybody?" And the common response is snickering. But that one time, the response was

"Here I am!" We burst out laughing.

"Max, you're not supposed to tell them where you are." So we try again and again until we discover something else to entertain us. And to the other side of the field with the hill that seemed even steeper to little kids but gradually became less threatening. That is until you are on a tractor riding sideways to the hill. The grass was efficiently being cut but pictures were racing through my mind. The story Opa had told me about a friends tractor tipping. And the label I was looking at that suggested to not ride on hills the way I was. I had no choice but to trust it. Opa had done it many times. What was different now? Even though I would rather be on the opposite side of the field, with frogs and butterflies and grasshoppers frantically moving out of the way of the machine that seemed so big to them. Or the little cove of grass between the trees I could mow later. Avoiding baby trees and a snake that slithered away. They always say that you are so much bigger and less frightened than these little things, but I could argue otherwise. I can look around the field and see all the different memories we have made. Even the old cars I wish I could see being driven. So much has happened here, and many adventures before my brother and I have happened. But the memories created here will last many lifetimes. And in the lives of many different people.