You said it was a dried up stream bed, We said it was an army trench.
You see red clay dirt clods, We see Grenades.
You watch trees swaying in the distance, We watch the enemy advancing.
You laugh at the canteen wedged in a hole carved out by little hands,
We laugh that you don't realize it is a refrigerator to keep our juice cool.
You admire the thistles and moss and call them such.
We admire the handiwork and beds of fairies.
You observe little holes from erosion, We observe the homes where fairies whisper and watch.
You notice a puddle of water and we notice the fairies reflecting pool,
everyone knows that fairies are vain.
We in this case means me and my younger twin brothers, a year and a half age difference meant we counted on each other to stay entertained.
This is a little look into our imagination when we were in elementary school.
I didn't make any of the stories up this is really where we played, fought and dreamed.
The craziest part about these pictures is how the canteen is still there!!!