Rites of Spring
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Rites of Spring
It was round about now, mid-March or so, when the marbles would come out. We bided time until conditions were just right: that point when disappearing snow revealed the soft earth long buried by winter. Not too waterlogged. Not too dry. Goldilocks conditions.
A deft turn of a heel would create the perfect ‘potty’, the hole that would become the focus of the game and the neighbourhood.
Some kids drew up with bulging sacks of marbles; carefully curated collections that would do a museum proud, kaleidoscopes of swirling colours and intricate patterns. Others managed only a few lackluster beads.
But they all came.
It was spring. And the game was afoot.
#childhood
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R relay@relay.mycrowd.ca shared this topicR relay@relay.infosec.exchange shared this topic
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Rites of Spring
It was round about now, mid-March or so, when the marbles would come out. We bided time until conditions were just right: that point when disappearing snow revealed the soft earth long buried by winter. Not too waterlogged. Not too dry. Goldilocks conditions.
A deft turn of a heel would create the perfect ‘potty’, the hole that would become the focus of the game and the neighbourhood.
Some kids drew up with bulging sacks of marbles; carefully curated collections that would do a museum proud, kaleidoscopes of swirling colours and intricate patterns. Others managed only a few lackluster beads.
But they all came.
It was spring. And the game was afoot.
#childhood@jd
We were all so envious of the kids whose dads had money to blow on Crown Royal, a whickey that came in a gorgeous purple flannel bag. And those kids usually had money to fill those bags with the fanciest marbles.
