Copyright © 1999 Walt Zientek

It was one of those perfect days. You know the kind that seem so easy to
remember but so very tough to find? A day of azure skies and gentle warmth
in what seems to be an endless summer.

A day of dirt lanes along crystal brooks with tall green grasses just right
for little boys to chew, growing along the path. A day where insects seem to
sing a song that children understand.

It was a day for a barefooted boy to live while he was young, with a four
legged friend by his side. It was a day where nothing happens, save the stuff
of future memories to call upon in later times.

It was one of those simple, golden, gentle days of little boys and yellow labs
in the summer of your mind.