The beautiful forests of my childhood, a pocket of green amidst the ever-encroaching city, is still there.
Here is the tree were we used to sit and swing. It is still there--but it is much too tall and big to swing in these days.
Here is a view down into the canyon. If you look closely, I believe you can see the creek peeking through the foliage.
Here's another view down into the canyon where we played as children.
I look at this photo, and I want to walk down into that cedar and moss forest...surely something magical lies beyond.
The sun comes out for a brief moment--filling the leaves with bright color.
Sometimes, standing at the edge of the canyon, looking down into the places we played as children, I can almost hear the echoes of those times--one moment from the past, superimposed upon the present. For a few moments I am sure I can her children laughing.