January 7, 2005

This worn trike sat in a downpour because it had nowhere to hide. The entire play yard of my first school was concrete surrounded by a high chain link fence. The fence kept out vandals and provided a clear division between child's recreation space and parking lot. 

I found it depressing.

But I'm an adult and don't have the elasticity of spirit that a child has. The play yard may have been cement but it rarely lacked games and laughter. Only when the infrequent downpour pounded the ground did the space take on the same drab aura to the children that I regarded it with everyday. 

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