Cory and I threw a baseball two Saturdays ago. As we did, I remembered the time of tiny dancers, when we all swayed to a beautiful, pointless tune.
Summer is a dance. The end of school opens the warm floor of the Conejo Valley for kids to learn, play and live. There’s no structure and restraint as they flow with the kind winds and sweet melodies to explore their random intrigue wherever it takes them.
It is a dance without steps, where they can do as they please withou...
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