This morning I was diving through town and I saw them putting up the frame for the ice tree and the starting of the outdoor ice-rink. Talk about nostalgia.

I remember learning to skate on that rink. It was only 8 blocks from the house I grew up in, so we spent a lot of time there in the winter. I remember skating at night, under the lights, with the snow falling and music playing over the PA. Ahh...memories. I'm not even sure I own a pair of skates anymore.

Watching all of this going on, I had to stop and wonder when, exactly, did I grow up? When did I lose that child-like awe? I still enjoy the magic of a gentle snowfall on a winters night. But, instead of throwing on a pair of skates, I appreciate it for two minutes, and then continue on with life. I suppose I'm better than most since, at the very least, I even notice it's going on and admire it's beauty. It's sad though, the loss of innocence. The leaving behind of things out-grown. On mornings like this, it makes you appreciate the few friends who, not only let you act like a kid, but encourage it and play right along side of you.