We Are Not Forgotten, Unknown or Lost
Driving through the countryside in the Spring of the year I pay special attention to where daffodils and surprise lilies poke through with their welcome of warmer days. Often, if one pays attention, you can see by the presence of unexpected flowers where a farm house once stood, where a flower garden used to proudly bloom or where once a driveway was marked with a colorful welcome to strangers. If you pause long enough to consider it, you can hear the laughter of children, the bellowing of cattle in the long-gone pasture or even observe laundry flapping in the wind, all reminders that few things stay the same and generations do pass, along with the things they held precious, including their toys. Abandoned swing sets and forgotten teddy bears may well be two of the more notable markers of my age, the remnants of childhood play now quiet and forlorn. Other assorted playmates would be the toy tractors and implements which, outgrown, found themselves silently left in the forever...