Dear Oxnard
Dear Bubbling Springs Park,
From the age of five til the age of twelve, I would walk my old terrier here whenever I could. I remember how the distance seemed so great at the time that I would pack a bag with candy from
Bill or sliced cheese. I will always remember your rich and black stinky mud that coated my legs to my knees and matted my dogs fur.
We caught crawdads and guppies, and on other expeditions, released pet store turtles, leopard frogs, and various other alien fish.
You were always my favorite walk to the beach, though you added distance.
After every summer, the soles of my feet would be hard, dry, and painfully cracked.