I must have been in kindergarten – this is one of my earliest memories. I was elated, running home up the green hill toward the three pines. This was the border that crowned the school yard, separating school from the sidewalk and the short road home. We had made paper kites in class that day and I was wearing white tights. I can still see my little white-clothed legs running up the hill, holding the kite in my hand. It pulls and flutters with the noise of wings behind me. It is fragile – mere paper – but it is flying, its streamers fully aloft! It is spring and the world is bright, white, blue and green. I remember thinking joyously – how wonderful! how perfect! how sad that I will not remember this day! Of all those days, it is of course, the only one that I remember.