Ah, the memories that a small-town baseball diamond brings to mind. Lazy summer afternoons when the sun was shining and the outdoors beckoned.
Someone would have the idea that it was a great day to play some ball. Boys would fan out on bicycles, knocking on doors of other kids letting them know that a game was on their mind. Soon, the gang would begin to gather at the park with the tall shady grove of trees around the open area which became our ballfield. Boys (and a couple of girls) would show up on bikes, on scooters, on foot with gloves/bats/ball in hand and begin to toss around the ball. Bases would be created by drawing squares in the dirt at the proper spots. Teams would be chosen and the game was on!
Games would last an hour or two, until kids had to leave for dinner, or until thunderstorm sent us all scurrying home, or darkness of dusk made it hard to see the batted ball.
The last time I visited the park, it was no longer there. Houses have been built underneath those tall shade trees. And what of Stuart and Robert, Dan and Lisa, Doug and Pat ... I have lost touch with all of them. But they remain a part of my fond memories of summertime, growing up.
A micro container which might be hard to secure when Muggles are about. And go ahead ... Run the bases if no one is watching.
Congratulations to iw118 for being the FTF. Well done!