The little boy, maybe 2 and a half or so, stood on the edge of the lawn pointing happily at the red and orange leaves in the gutter. He wore no hat nor gloves. He had on no shoes or socks. He wore only a short-sleeved tee-shirt and thin shorts. The temperature was in the 50s. What the heck was he doing outside? As we pedaled by him on our bicycles, I did not see any adult keeping tabs on him. Odd. A few houses down the street, an elderly man was mucking about in his garage. "Excuse me," I called, hopefully, "Are you missing a boy?" "No," he said. "Is there one missing?" "There's a little boy on the corner. He isn't wearing any shoes or socks." "That's not good," said the man looking up the street. "Do you know where he might live?" "No," said the old man. The husband and I turned back. The little boy couldn't or wouldn't answer any of our questions. "What's your name?" &q
In my mind, I'm five years old having a high old time wandering and wondering. In reality, I'm now in my late 60s, wowza! I tell you a lot of creativity is still to be found in this old young self. In you, too, whatever your age. Welcome to my barefoot world!