Skipping, I leave my house with my camera hanging from my neck

                                                      like a child afraid to be dropped,

                                                      bouncing forward with every moment.

                                                      Looking up at the springtime sky,

                                                      the shapes of wispy clouds allow my imagination to run wild.

                                                      My mind drifts into daydreams of sailboats, farm animals, flowers, shoes

                                                      and other objects my mind’s eye sees in the sky.

                                                      Carelessly walking,

                                                      I stumble over the raised cement on the broken sidewalk.

                                                      I fall to my knees and catch my camera

                                                      just before it collides with the ground.

                                                      I sit on the sidewalk and catch my breath, observing the wildlife that lives at my feet.

                                                      To me, I watch crickets jump randomly, but I’m sure they know their way home.

                                                      Butterflies flutter from flower to flower.  Soon to be a beautiful creature,

                                                      a nearby caterpillar inches its way in the smooth dirt toward an unknown destination.

                                                      A trail of ants follows the leader up the ant hill.  In the back,

                                                      The tiniest ant is carrying what seems to be a bread crumb.

                                                      I can only imagine the comments the queen ant will give.

                                                      The grass, so green and crisp, runs through my fingers as if it were my own hair.

                                                      There’s nothing sweeter than the smell of fresh cut grass on a springtime afternoon.

                                                      With no limits, I take snapshots over and over,

                                                      Making memories to last me a lifetime.

                                                      I slowly stand, continuing to take pictures of the trees,

                                                      luscious berries hang on by a thread,

                                                      and the birds fly overhead hunting their prey.

                                                      Moments pass and in the blink of an eye,

                                                      Spring has vanished and fall has arrived.  Sitting on my porch steps,

                                                      I begin to look at the snapshots I had taken Seasons ago.

                                                      Memories frolic in my mind, snapshots from the ground, up.

                                                     As I remember that spring day, I spread out on the sidewalk that lies ahead of me.

                                                     With my hands folded and placed neatly behind my head, I look up at the wispy clouds,

                                                     Allowing my imagination to run wild.

Brandy Page is a twelfth-grade student at Park Hill High School in Kansas City, Mo.