This morning my lawn looked like it was crunchy with frost. It wasn’t of course, just wet from the sprinklers.
I always loved walking across the frosty lawn on my way to school, but only at the beginning of the season when the grass was still green and springy under it’s icing. The cushiony crunch it made when stepped upon was a thrill and the foot prints left on perfectly frosted grass lovely. There would be only a slight difference from the lawn at large, but the diagonal path across the yard in the direction of the jr. high school would be clearly visible.
It’s been years since I walked on grass like that.
Since I moved away from my parents house.
I cross my fingers for a frosty morning when I’m home for Thanksgiving.


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