a well-grounded child

meaning, of course, that i was certainly familiar with the ground. this is where it all began, i think. i remember the day my father took these pictures, i can smell the green grass in my grandmother's yard as surely as if i were there right now. i can feel its cool quickening beneath my cheek, scratching across my shoulder blades as I twisted about to look up at the sky. how much time did you spend looking at the sky when you were young? i believe it was this grounding, this looking up while being so firmly set down that began my love affair with the earth.