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What I Knew as a Boy

The first thing I can remember is pulling a carrot from the earth. The bright orange, twisting root speckled with the dirt from our little backyard garden felt cool and foreign in my fingers. Our little house was smack in the middle of suburban Colorado Springs, which is a city that spills and rolls over the mountain foothills and out into the plains to the point that it really should be three or four different cities. We lived in the middle, in those houses that stare up at the snow-capped Pikes Peak because they can’t afford to live closer to the mountains they so identify with.... read more