When I was a just a little guy in the 80's, my parents would bring me here on my tricycle and we would fly my blue and yellow kite from the top of the hill. Back then the hill felt like a mountain and I could see for miles and miles. On one of those days, an extra windy day, my kite string broke and I watched and cried as my kite ended up in one of the neighbour’s back yards. This was the end of my world. Life couldn't get any worse. My kite was gone, Forever! Luckily my dad knew how to deal with such tragedies. He took me to the house and we retrieved the kite from the owner's yard. Life now had meaning again! Sometimes I miss how simple life was back in the 80's.
Enjoy the playground!