In My Driveway
Driveways are mundane, ordinary places; everyone has one. As a mother, I spend a lot of time watching my children play in our driveway. Sun, rain, snow—it doesn’t matter—the kids are playing outside, on that little strip of asphalt. I realized, one day, that in the middle of all that regularity, a certain beauty was unfolding before me. Magic, even. The magic of childhood. Of imagination and triumph, of curiosity and long-forgotten heart-to hearts. Nothing unique or different, but a universal fantasticalness, nonetheless.