My favorite childhood playground was my grandma’s giant, musty basement.
It had an old bed in one corner (the wrestling arena), a giant matted carpet in the center (the safe zone during games of tag), endless boxes stuffers under the staircase (the cave of wonders), and enough room to run or race and chase ourselves in circles.
This was never just a basement. It was whatever we needed it to be, an endless sandbox for my imagination. And when I shake my head, I think I still have some of the sand in my hair.
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Words: Jim Kast-Keat
Image: Jim Kast-Keat
Music: Podington Bear
