As I passed a bookshelf this morning, I saw:
I don't remember anything about the original picture, but I can gather that it was taken early in Cub Scouts as a Wolf scout. I'm sitting on a fence; I don't remember where. I was happy then, I think. Every day, I walk past this picture and I struggle to remember the happiness of my early youth. Nothing is off limits to my new perceptions. All memories are at hazard. I can't keep anything safe.