Joy for Free
[su_dropcap]W[/su_dropcap]atching our grand daughter frolic in the sprinkler, I remembered the utter joy the first day we were allowed to go barefoot–in the zoysia grass, under the mimosas, only to get “stung on a bee” as one of us lamented when it happened.
The moving-parts oscillating gizmos came along well after the first one I remember–a ring of brass with holes in it that just sat there and put out a tiaraof luke-warm Alabama water a few feet into the sultry air.
Joy is found in free and simple things when you’re six. We should all be six as often as possible.