“I’ll meet you at the place we meet whenever we’re on our bikes!”
I heard this yelled from one kid to another today. These excited, anxious, out of school children, so happy to be free from their work, teachers and the indoors, on this beautiful, brisk and sunny Memorial Day. The simple pleasure of riding a bike as fast as you can down the street and skidding into your buddy’s yard, dropping your bike and running inside for a handful of cookies before returning to your adventure.
I love the codes between children. The secret language that is shared among them during frantic play. The sacred meeting places that become “just parks” or “that corner” as we get older. These are the mystical grounds and creepy nooks to be feared and sought out, and the grown ups that inhabit them are as foreign as bank accounts and are to be avoided at all costs. These are the dwelling places of possibility, the lands of imagination and greatness.
This is where we go when we are on stage. This world we create makes something out of nothing, sound from void, smiles from apathy. We paint pictures with the colors of our sorrows and bring about shadows and light with the shades of our memories. These songs are our codes that we share with anyone who so chooses to be a willing participant in our world. We glide, like children on bikes, laughing and confiding in one another. Our songs are but captured moments of our imaginations and the secrets we share and openly give to you.
So, with that said, we’ll meet you at the place we meet whenever we are on our bikes! Join us, it’s beautiful out here.