After Abby dozed off this evening, I walked around outside for a while. The sky was alight with the last of the sunset, and combined with a thunderstorm to our east, a rainbow formed. I walked down to the pond, which has been dry since the beginning of the month. I had my shovel with me; who doesn’t in the country, right? My plan was to shovel about eight big globs of pond bottom and throw the dirt on the dam, in hopes of both getting a decent workout and making the pond deeper in the middle so it will hold more water when it’s rainy again.

As I did this and listened to the sound of the evening, I was reminded of the summer of 1978, when Michael and I spent a huge amount of our time as 15-year-olds messing around in an area of Lawton, Oklahoma we called “Section A.” The moniker was part of a bigger plan to be part our secret society. It’s name? It’s a secret.

The most amazing thing about our time in “Section A” is that we never picked up ticks, which probably would have killed us with all manner of parasite-borne illness.

My slice of the green is browning up some now, which “Section A” always did at this time of year. Tonight was my little time machine to adolescence.

I photographed the rainbow and the weeds that reminded me of yesteryear, then found that the light was just right on my antenna farm (read about why I have an antenna farm here), which I also photographed.