DEAR EDITOR:

Life is what you make of it.

As a child you could always find me in trees, eating peaches, cherries, apples and pears. I would search the plowed fields for arrowheads, spending many summers weeding flower beds. In time, the gardens changed to lawns, eventually evolving to a land so far away. There were truckloads of earth brought to represent the Far East. Now laid dry river beds, along with the stone bridges, blend with moon bridges and torres.

Hidden paths that meandered to private setting gardens of vino.

A friend referred to it as “the enchanted forest.”

I surrounded my home with privacy. While society fights the woes of life. I believe I have serenity within my imagination.

I wish to reflect the quote, “You’re only here for a short visit, don’t hurry, don’t worry and be sure to smell the flowers along the way.”

PAUL R. LAWSON

McDonald