The star attraction on the playground of Washington Elementary was the jungle gym with the giant green dragon head. I could hear the call from the street level where the bus dropped me off. “Climb me!” It shouted from above. I raced up the stairs. Dropped my homemade orange corduroy book bag and rung by rung, began my ascent. Up and around. Getting higher. Closer. Of all the gifts they gave me in school, and there were many, this one, beginning each day at the top, was one of the finest.

As we wander the country, I can still hear the call. From the World’s biggest Bowie knife, to Longhorns frozen by the river, or horses statued and waiting for Wee-chi-tah! Their words ring in my heart’s ear, and I have to climb!

I suppose that’s why I write every day. Each word a rung. Maybe today I will turn that perfect corner, step up just a little, climb the perfect sentence, and reach higher. I owe them that, the teachers that gave me the chance, the desire. I owe it to myself. Not to waste any of it. Some days I may only ride the small pony. But one day, the tallest dragon! There will be joy in it all! And so I climb…