One Season to the Next

I took a walk at work today. It was a beautiful day for it, and my office is in a really nice neighborhood, so it just seemed like the only reasonable thing to do. I really enjoyed the walk, but I did notice something a little different when I walked by the big grass field. It's a field I used to play Ultimate Frisbee on before life got so busy. It's similar to the fields I've played soccer on, and flag football on, and even bears resemblance to the lined and leveled football fields of my high school days. It's the smell. That fresh, well kept grass smell that becomes so strong in Spring and Fall. It's always had that effect of instantly transporting me back to... somewhere. Soccer, football, ultimate, any of those places. It's always a good moment. It brings with it that little boost of adrenaline, that singularity of focus, and the happy, clean feeling of getting ready to walk out onto the field of competition. I've always loved that feeling, that smell. Today was different though. I walked by the field. I smelled the grass. I got transported... but I didn't go to my old football fields. I didn't go to the ultimate fields either. In fact, I didn't go to any of my old battlegrounds. I went somewhere else. Just like that, the second the smell hit me, I was at my child's soccer game. Both of my daughters play soccer now. They are both pretty good at it, and both really, really love the game, and I love watching them play. And that's where I went. So I don't know when it happened, and I don't know how it happened, but I think that what's going on here is that maybe that smell belongs to them now, to my little girls. My days on the grassy fields are drawing to a close, and theirs are just beginning to bloom, and honestly, I'm OK with that, although my wife might argue otherwise. I'll always love that air of competition. I'll always think I'm ten years younger than I am. Still, nothing I've ever achieved on those fields can bring with it the same joy as watching my children on their fields, finding out what they're capable of, running, playing, laughing, competing... growing. Enjoy those grass covered fields girls. I cede them to you without regret. I would tell you to make daddy proud, but I think you're already there.