A Love for Robin Hood

There was a patch of tall, green forest-like trees in the brown desert I grew up in.

This patch of trees was not more than a block long (just off the I-15 South, Charleston exit ramp), and has since been cut down for some time. 

But as a little girl, my mom would drive along this road on her way to work, or my babysitters, or the park, (I can't remember exactly where and neither can she). 

I was around the age of 4 or 5 and as we would drive through this "Forest," and I would pretend I was Maid Marian looking for Robin Hood. It was my favorite movie and Little John was my absolute favorite. Especially because he sounded like Baloo from my 2nd favorite movie at that time, The Jungle Book. 

My mom would say as she drove, "There he is. Look right there. I see him. Do you?" She was so good at spotting Robin Hood and Little John hiding in the trees, and I knew she really did see them. Of course she did, because why would a mom lie to her little child?  Ha! 

I always loved that drive and those beautiful trees. They made me smile. They made me feel like I was in a movie. They made me feel like I had escaped to Sherwood Forest, with the handsome Robin Hood, while I was the beautiful Maid Marian. I always loved those trees. 

I think of that special memory often with my babe as we explore park after park, trail after trail, in our new state. Pretty crazy that we now live in a place full of tall, green, actual forest trees, much different from the brown desert she and I were both born in. 

Sometimes I think I might even spot him. Man, I loved Robin Hood.