Nobody truly understands how fast life moves until you get to another mountain, valley floor or the opening elements that invite yet another storm. That's when you rely on experience to help open new ideas and plans designed to elevate the spirit within. Openly I admit, I loved hitting the age thirty. I could finally forget my teens. Yeah OK... The spunk and fire of that kid's dreams are still very much alive. The guts and courage became and still become the fire. Except now I'm more protective of the experience. Not because of age or something has stolen a piece of it. The seeds we put into the soil as young adults grew leaves. In between there were flowers that invited fruit. It's was fun to pick them off and devour the essence of sight and sound. Then we grew up. Or so we thought. Being a daily writer I still hear the beat of a soul connected like strings to that teen. Those early years aren't angry with 2018. If anything he's grateful for how the stories of an everyday life in an everyday world have endured the presence of a moment. Which is pretty deep. Until you begin to realize that all that you are today is because that teen put his or her fingers deep into the dirt and put thoughts and things in a place called forward motion.