I gave a similar post last year. But my friend Leigh is documenting her trip to Africa on her blog in a similar way. So I thought I'd be a copycat.
Then I read the journal entry I wrote five years ago today. It was really stupid. So I'll just say it differently.
Five years ago today, I was in England. First, we went to a place called Beale's Park and ate lunch. Larry Ivy, (last name sound familiar, heroes?) our tour guide, told us a story about a game a grandmother taught her grandson: imagining he was a bird and being able to soar high overhead, feel the wind, experience the thrill, see the world, all through his imagination. Larry's hope was that we would be able to do the same. See the world, feel the rush, experience the thrill of being in a new world and creating a place for that world in our hearts.
"Did you play the game?" The grandmother asked.
"I did, Grandma. And it was wonderful."
Did I play the game?
You bet your left big toe I did. Only it was real. And it was wonderful.
Pics of Beale's Park.
Doesn't do it justice.