It's been a long time since I watched a tractor plow a field. Even longer since I watched with two of my best friends. It was like magic how those discs turned old weeds into dark Santa Clara Valley soil.

We had big plans in those days. We started a tunnel under the driveway. It would stretch down the street, around the corner and come up in Skeeter's front yard. We already had a garbage can lid down there to cover the hole. It would have been a much more convenient way to get to Skeeter's. Parents didn't like us crossing the street. We had big plans.

One of us grew up to be an artist. Another became a community organizer. The other, well we're not quite sure, but certainly he became a scientist or an architect or a dancer. Surely, he pursued dreams bigger than himself.