On one of my many journeys into the wilderness of the woods behind our home I was trailblazing with my hickory stick helping me clear a path through the growth and ahead I saw the figure of the bus. No telling how long it had been there. I cleared away any vegetation from the opening and went inside to find it really free of trash or anything. What a find. Now I had a place I could go to sit and think about whatever went through my young mind.
I had a white, 5 gal. bucket that I turned upside down and used as a seat and made many trips to my secret place. On rainy days I especially loved being in there out of the rain listening to the drops hitting on the roof and feeling such peace.
Today with all the nice things we have I think back to a time when a discarded old school bus body made a young guy feel so very good. I miss that bus.