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Cowboys & Indians

October 17, 2013


** a childhood memory I don’t want to forget** 

Wind blew through my long dark hair; a tangled strand wrapped its way around my neck. Light blue eyes, brightly contrasting my dirt streaked face, shone with wonder and excitement. Tall wisps of grain whipped back and forth creating a tangible rhythm. Swish, swish…. whoosh. Swish, swish… whoosh. The sky was endless. All around us flaming orange, red, purple, and hints of pink. Remnants of a day quite unordinary. The silhouettes of my three favorite people moved about in the fading light.

“Come on Pocahontas! Yer comin’ with me!” I looked up to see my brother, red curls peeking out from under his cowboy hat. His smile tipped sideways as he reached for my arm. Giggles erupted from the small boy next to me; he watched, bb-gun slung over one shoulder, as our big brother took me by the arm and marched me to prison. Little brother followed close behind, proudly marching. His bandana hung loosely around his neck; revealing the most adorable, contagious grin ever to exist.

My bare feet left small impressions in the dirt, the dust puffing up with each step. Our trails were well-worn; this was our “mountain”, a mound of dirt behind our house overgrown with weeds and grain. I heard a rustle in the weeds, not like the wind, it was louder and mixed with suppressed bursts of laughter. I saw her peeking out from cover, Indian paintings smeared across her face. Huge green eyes full of mischief. Suddenly shouts of, “I-yi-yi-yi-yi!” filled our ears as she rushed out to rescue me. Our world turned into shouting, laughter, hearts racing, and eyes lit with sight that reaches beyond the moment; to the infinite possibilities of what we can become.

This moment, forever imprinted on my heart, taught me that the potential of our imaginations are limitless.

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