They say that nothing in this world is free, but I believe I have finally found something that is. Tucked away underneath the shading canopy of overhanging branches alongside a long stretch of country road, there is a special place where kids can go to just be kids. Tucked into the edge of a forest’s wood line, it’s an unassuming place, and all who visit hope to keep it that way. That’s why its exact location will not be disclosed in this column. 

No one knows how it came to be, but over the last five years of its existence there have been many theories. 

Some believe the giant sand mound was left over from the building of the nearby playground. Others believe it was intentionally dumped and left for the future refurbishing of sand under the picnic table area. Still others believe that must be a distinct rhyme and reason the location was chosen. The giant mound of beach-like sand is in a strategic setting – the center of a triangle between three neighborhoods. 

Whatever its the true origin, one fact is certain. For all the Littles in the three neighborhoods and their caregivers, it’s a destination of fun. A place where the smallest of us all can still feel free to play like many of us bigger folks used to when we were kids. It’s a nice respite, too, for the parents or grandparents sitting nearby on one of the many concrete benches sprinkled throughout the three-acre park as they keep a watchful eye. A true nod to times gone by.

Each morning, an army of tiny little hands and feet dig for shells and slowly work to flatten the mound. By the end of most days, they have accomplished their goal. But, as if by magic, the mountain is rebuilt overnight and ready again early the next morning. To this day, only a few know who performs this task. And when asked why, the answer is always the same, “Have to get the sandbox ready for the kids in the morning.”  

That same handful of folks are the few that know the true origin of the neighborhood sandbox and the nearby park, who built the many pathways winding through the thick woods, and why. They have promised never to tell. I will honor their wishes and leave you with the following message.

 There is a place in our town, a giant mound of sand tucked under the shading canopy of low overhanging branches, and all are welcome to visit the beach…if you happen upon it. Bring your Littles and their sandbox toys and, if you wish, leave a few to add to the growing collection. Enjoy lunch on the picnic table surrounded by nothing but woods, and take pleasure in watching your kids playing without a care in this world – just like you did when you were a kid growing up a long, long, time ago on that old familiar street not so far away.

I guess a visit to the neighborhood sandbox isn’t free after all – it does cost you something. Time.