I'm from shivering, winter days and scorching summer nights spent in the same place:
outside.

I'm from racing sleds down snowy, ice-covered hills.

I'm from football in a bumpy field behind our school grade school.

From the crackle of hot metal and warm leather blocking the wind when it’s cold.

From a black helmet and blue jeans.

From days at work with dad and getting myself covered in foul dirt and oil.

I'm from playing cops and robbers past the crack of dawn, itching because no one thought of pouting on bug spray.  

I'm from sweating when it's 10 degrees shoveling snow.
I’m from hearing the ring knowing my friends and I better run to make it home.

From the light of a fire backyard and the sound of coyotes in the distance .

From dirt on my hands and fixing cars with my dad.

From the wind blowing past the leaves and the crack of lightning striking the grandfather tree feet from the house.

I'm from not thinking before jumping off the hammock and ending up with my arm in a cast.

I'm from calluses on my hands, dirt from head to toe, spending more time under the sun or moon than under a roof.

I'm from shivering, winter days and scorching summer nights spent in the same place:
outside.