Cardboard Hill
Field in Springtime Photo by Angela Marie Morton This post is different from my usual writings, in that it does not tie into art or creativity. Instead, this month I chose to write a brief recollection of a childhood memory that I felt was worth preserving on virtual paper . Lying in bed, wide awake at 2am on a recent morning, a childhood memory I had not thought about for ages popped into my head: a place the local kids referred to as “Cardboard Hill”. It was near “The Rope Swing”, both of which were on a portion of undeveloped land behind our suburban housing development, in the East Bay of San Francisco. At the end of a cul de sac, there was an access point to a path that branched off in four directions: to the right, you were headed to a large community park, with several Weeping Willow-lined ponds, grassy spaces perfect for flying kites, and picnic tables. If you went up, you were led to “The Flag”; a Vietnam War memorial which overlooked the park, and was where the locals would c