secret_park
e_o_i I'm glad some of my childhood interests survive to the present, such as a fascination with secret places hidden in the everyday.

That's why I wanted to go with Mom and Dad to Westwood_Park today. Dad said he'd show us where he'd been skiing the last two days and it caught my interest when he said it was west of the park, where the old golf course was. Because when it was a golf course, it was closed off on the side, fenced in, as surely as the airport field was in front.

But today there was an opening in the gate, one that had been there for a year or two now, not that I'd noticed. We approached it. "Are you even allowed to go in?" I asked. Apprehensive, anticipating.

I'd never been in that space before, fifteen minutes from home. It was a narrow space, between the fence for the park and a taller, weirder fence. That fence separated it from the truck garage that had replaced the golf course, and it had vertical sticks of wood pinned to a plywood backing with metal reinforcements. In one place some of the sticks were missing and someone had written

V
O
L
E
U
R

T
H
E
I
F

on the bare plywood - evidently in response to whoever had stolen the sticks (and yes, "thief" was misspelled) - but at first I didn't make the connection and wondered aloud if it was a warning against trespassers.

Also, I saw what looked like a small opening in the large fence, like a dog door. White, suggesting snow on the other side, but I walked up to it and saw my own reflection. Dad laughed; he'd made the same mistake before, it seemed.

He showed us the tracks of his skis in yesterday's snow. The constellation of trees was new to me, like the sky's would be in Australia, and I felt a little anxious. I hadn't had lunch yet. Was there another way out?

But I wasn't the one to be a wimp, because Mom said that was enough walking. "But we haven't gone far enough to see the really nice tree, the one you'll like," said Dad.

"Another time," said Mom.

On the way back, the wind blasted cold into our flesh. I felt miserable because of the cold, because I was letting misery chill me, but in two streets I managed to chase away the feeling by rubbing my gloved hands and telling my parents about the dream I had where Nicki Minaj recorded a music video on the moon.

It will warrant further investigation. I mean the in-between park, which is closer than the moon.
220118
...
unhinged my favorite park to search for mushrooms was nothing more than a sign and a very steep path to me for many years 220119
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