Silent car rides, in the back seat of that Green 1972 Plymouth Fury, is what I remember most.
We had our share of noisy rides too but it was as if calmness and quiet were thrust upon us, once we stepped into our family car. Our eight-cylindered friend, with wide spaces and small cocoons for children to sleep through long journeys, had a smiling face and observed all.
Elbows on windows and hands on belts, our minds would race as we watched the world and ate burgers in silence. Houses, driveways, bikes, and clotheslines sped in and out of view. Under tunnels and hydro towers, beside leafy trees and little hills, we exhaled in peace.
The car my father purchased from a Catholic nun for two hundred dollars in 1975, spent only five years in our homestead. Soaring gas prices literally drove the car away. When my parents finally sold it, we naturally mourned the loss of a friend and family member.
Green-skinned and magical, it knew more than it let on, or so it seemed.
"The greatest poem ever known Is one all poets have outgrown: The poetry, innate, untold, of being only four years old."—Christopher Morley, To a Child
In the Green Forest
A Friendly Giant
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"I sometimes find...that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind....At these times...I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure."—Albus Dumbledore
The Doll House
"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."—Theodor Seuss Geisel
"There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again."— Elizabeth Lawrence