Where am I?

"Where am I?"

"Where am I?"

That is what Catherine asked when she was in Calgary, making the rounds to find a new place for Kelvin to stay.

I knew right away where this was, but had been tipped off as to what areas she would be driving through in the morning.

When I played in this field there was a little copse of willows at the fields edge.  I made my first outdoor fort there.

I watched this field turn from green to yellow and then be covered in snow as the rhythm of the year would pass.

"Yes -- I'm on 17A Street, looking back at Grandpa's Old House."

This is where our pony, Comet, was tethered in the summer. This is where we picked shoot stars by day and took our bottles out to the field to catch fire flies at night.

In the winter we tobagganed down this hill, trudged through the snow and up again going to and from high school.

Here is where we searched for Richard's and Glen's shoes when it was time for church and we found out the shoes were missing.

Wyona caught tadpoles in the slough at the bottom of the hill.

Add your own story in the comments section if you like.  A lot of Pillings played in that field.

Arta