Memory has a strange way of working.
Objects caught in a passing glance can unlock a life's worth of emotion.
I didn't expect to write an entire column after seeing a pile of sand in a bucket one day, but as a memory of my old sandbox was recalled, a column was born. My thoughts ran through the endless hours spent in my sandbox, long since dismantled and forgotten. Not a care in the world once your bare feet hit the sand. Well, we'll have none of that now, my collegiate instinct responded. I couldn't answer.