Those were the days, those lazy summer days when time seemed to stay still. When a backyard became a jungle or a tree house transformed into a palace. It was amazing how holding a tiny metal race car felt like I was behind the wheel, or that our dreams still could become a reality. There was wonder behind every activity and a simplicity in our expectations. Perhaps this is what the world is missing now. The child-like innocence and perspective. Those were the years when things where black and white, and shades of grey were reserved for the shadows on the wall. Where does this youthful optimism go? Why do things have to be complicated and intricate?
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