The Woods
by Keith Hayman

It is Monday, July 8^th, and I have been trying to think of a good story to write about.  As I headed out the door this morning, at the crack of noon, I heard a loud crashing sound in the woods on the other side of Mom’s house.  It  was a big bulldozer knocking out a lot of trees.  Those woods bring back a lot of memories of when I was growing up.  When I was about eight or nine years old, Dad, Don, and Ted took me rabbit hunting, and this is the spot where I got my first rabbit.  Those woods are where I learned to ride my first mini bike, and Shane and Amber have ridden in those woods with me as long as they can remember.  Over the years I kind of thought of those woods as my back yard.  When Shane and I rode over to have a look, we just sat there on our four wheelers and watched as our trails and our woods were torn apart.  Well, time goes on and the woods are not the same, but I will always have a lot of fond memories from those woods next to Mom’s house.  Soon we will have a new family moving in, and I am just glad it is not a bunch of greenhouses.