Camilleon

I was sitting in the park, watching my nephews dive into an epic battlefield game of their own making. I could practically see it all unfold with them; the imaginary guns blazing, ducking behind trees for cover, fully lost in the chaos. On the other side of the park, complete entertained by herself was my 3 year old daughter walking up and down the slides at the park singing at full volume “and at last I see the light” over and over again, reimagining herself as Rapunzel in that scene (my favorite scene of any Disney movie) where the sky lanterns float in the sky. When I see a kid do this, imagine a whole world around them, forming these elaborate stories I think maybe everything is okay with the world. We are allowing children to be children. To be outside, get muddy, and allow their boredom to drive them to create with their minds.

I love throwing on my Charley Crockett T-shirts with high-waisted jeans that flare out into bells at the bottom. I keep daydreaming about adding one of those big, shiny sheriff-style buckle belts to complete the look. Throw in a proper cowboy hat and a pair of real boots, and I’d be ready to play pretend: me as the lone rider galloping across the southern plains. For now, I slip into the one pair of boots I actually own and let myself imagine, just for a moment, that I know the first thing about handling a horse. I love listening to Johnny Cash, Leah Blevins, Dolly Parton, and just think about how little claim I have to this culturally, but how fun it is to blast these songs on my Subaru driving down the Pennsylvania roads. 

If you do see me walking down the street wearing a ridiculously large buckle belt, please pay me no mind, I’m just utilizing my free will.