The humongous boulders where I wasted countless hours climbing. Cracks spidering across and perfect foothold for climbing up the flat side. Feeling so petite against the smiling face or in the valley between the two. While one had a flat surface that we could sit on, the other was a steeple shooting straight up with no space to perch. The feeling of relief as I grasp the footholds and meander up. Panting hard against the rock, mostly from the thrill. Then standing like Simba, as king of the world. All alone, left to mull decisions over, birds chirping their songs and the quiet rustle of leaves. Deers prance by and gape up to me, their leader, as I oversee my kingdom. Parents calling me in and I scurry down, anxious to eat lunch and then stroll leisurely back to the top of the rock.