Well, you have to start somewhere, don’t you? This isn’t the beginning. It’s just a place in time, or maybe a coordinate in space-time, when the world around you seems gigantic. The hill is a mountain, the ground is a rolling ocean of green. We are ultra cool with a stick and overturned wagon. Shades. The family’s underwear flapping about in a southern winter’s wind. You don’t know that you are part of a continuum. Returning via Google street view, it’s a micro-verse, but the house (that you can’t see here) is there and recognizable and so is the hand-built garage. And the hill, and the grass. We are still there, and here, too.