Perched up top. Little one, filled with dreams of the future.

Clutching down as the pulley rocks clearing the way for promise.

Laughing, maneuvering, looking down at the treads left behind

and at the marks pushed into the thick mud ahead.

Sun beating down as the dust clusters around your face and enters your eyes.

The smell of fresh air, those memories that consume the moment

allowing only the immediate to fill your mind. Childhood away from the city was prime;

as parents we ventured to create only the idea of possibility - building a new home.