The park that my daughter and I like to play at is full of little hidden places. Old play areas and paths that have since been left to slowly descend into that slightly creepy and yet completely beautiful glimpse of history.
There are times that I feel my brain is one of those abandoned areas. A plain old metal frame that is being covered and bent by the vines of disuse as I go about the rest of my life. Yet sometimes, usually when I’m right in the middle of something completely mundane, a beautiful bloom or brightly colored animal peeks at me and reminds me of the real purpose behind that ancient frame.
Now if I would only remember to carry a tape recorder in the car again!