[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.
“We should all be six as often as possible.” To which the best response is Amen!
I say Amen too. Some of my fondest moments in childhood were spent in the sprinkler and my memories of my children doing it surface often. Grandchildren too, although we had a pool then and sprinklers were not so important.