{Preview} Portrait of a school-aged kid

In those first moments of summer, kids molt like snakes.  Piles of who they were yesterday ribbon like silk into the fragrant, cut grass.

It doesn’t matter how old you get, you will always remember those first days of summer.  Like the last walk home from the bus, marled pavement and small pebbles rolling beneath your feet.  The shock-of-white-sun from looking over your shoulder, making sure your mom was still there.  The sky.  Extra big.  Extra blue.  Some odd sense you are moving up in the world, even if it’s only from first grade to second.  Your heart high and full in your little chest like a balloon. 

Any fears or worries, or joys for that matter, from the year have fled.  What’s left is the core of a school-aged kid.  Ripe confidence.  Dirty hands.  Curiosity, glistening.  And the amazing feeling you have, and can always, conquer the world.