Where the Cameras Weren't

This is a picture (not of the day that I talk about in this post) of my brother and I playing in the front yard of my old house after a big rain had come. 

One of the strongest memories I have of my childhood, was a single day in a thunderstorm.
My brother, grandfather, and I were standing in my grandfather's garage. The door was open, rain splashed off the driveway and into the carport. It smelled like bricks, grass, and summer. The three of us just stood there.
We stood, and watched as the rain fell down on the concrete.
I don't know how old I was, I know that I was pretty young. Probably about six or seven.
When it rained, the water would pool in the small dips in the yard. My brother and I always loved to splash in them, and that day, we decided we would swim in them.
Now of course, the water was not even close to deep enough to be able to swim. It was just a little over a puddle. But we sat down in it anyways, and we splashed and we played and we laughed.
My grandmother came out of the house and told us : "Be careful, now! If a snappin' turtle bites you, he won't let go 'til thunder rolls." People say that where I live, I'm sure they must say it other places as well.
Wet grass clung to my hair, I had mud all over me, but that was one of the best days. I have so many other days to tell about, but I'll save those for another day.
If I could go back in time and take pictures of days in my life where I felt truly alive, I would go back to this day first. I would take a picture of me and my grandfather and my brother, standing in the opening of that garage watching the rain. I would take a picture of me and my brother, covered from head to toes in mud and wet grass, laughing like maniacs.

Peace, love, and memories of happiness,
                                                                 Sara