When my son was young, we lived up in the hills, a bit away from the nearby suburb. Almost daily, we’d wander in the brush. 

We tried to guess which animal left tracks in the dirt, usually coyote and deer, but also racoon and bobcat, and once a mountain lion. We’d notice the changes in the seasons and look forward to when it was too cold for rattlesnakes to slither above ground.

Down where the rain water would bring sand and dry branches to collect around tall shrubs, every so often, we’d find a lost balloon, still in one piece, although torn open. The metallic inside flickered sunlight.

When my son was young, we lived up in the hills, a bit away from the nearby suburb. Almost daily, we’d wander in the brush. 

We tried to guess which animal left tracks in the dirt, usually coyote and deer, but also racoon and bobcat, and once a mountain lion. We’d notice the changes in the seasons and look forward to when it was too cold for rattlesnakes to slither above ground.

Down where the rain water would bring sand and dry branches to collect around tall shrubs, every so often, we’d find a lost balloon, still in one piece, although torn open. The metallic inside flickered sunlight.