As a young girl I lived in a neighborhood with a lot of children. There was always someone to play with, always some kind of game in progress.
Up and out the door in the morning, home for lunch, and back out until dinner. Once the dishes were done, out until the streetlights came on. On rainy days, the action moved into my parents basement with the same schedule. Day after day. At the time it seemed like the summers were endless.
Now when I look back at those summers, I have a different perspective. Looking back at those summers, they seem short, the memories are just flashes of the games we played.
Is this change in perspective because I am older? Is it because I appreciate the value of time differently? Is the change in perspective because I am looking at it from far away, from a different time and place? I wish I knew.