magic trees, skinned knees and tender toughness

The air was thick with wafts of Old Spice and warm leather. Tiny beads of sweat danced across my forehead. The too tight little yellow plastic barrettes pinning my auburn hair back, with the blue and white polka dotted shorts set had me looking like I stepped right out of the Sears & Roebuck catalogue. I was beaming inside, and singing out loud “build me up buttercup’’ as we drove through Prospect Park. “Tracy darlin’, for you we’ll take the long way.” I loved getting to drive through that park. All the majestic and towering Maple and Oak trees made me forget that we were in Brooklyn. I’d pretend we were in some type of enchanted forest, just like the ones in the piles of storybooks neatly stacked by my bed.