How about a game of hopscotch across these stream cobbles with a clover chain for a lanyard- -wet feet settling any dispute over who stepped out of the lines? Or maybe we should play follow-the-leader on our bellies, trailing the ants on their various adventures. Or, if nobody’s around, why not play a game of hide-and-seek all by yourself in a wild place that tickles your curiosity but also triggers the electric chill of the alarm hairs on the back of your neck and see what comes seeking? Let’s play pick-up sticks with lumpy sticks or tiddlywinks with living winks. Let’s collect wet marbles, rounded by the ten-thousand-year-old riverbed rock tumbler, and play an old-fashioned game of ringer. Let’s play steal-the-gold on a five acre wooded court in the snow... The gold: a crown of fallen aspen leaves hidden towards the top of the tallest tree. Let’s play full-contact, cross-country, miniature golf, or if you are feeling mellow, a game of checkers: acorn caps vs. walnut shells worn like little hats on frogs and lizards... pieces that move on their own. Or, let’s not. Rather, let’s think of games we could play as we rest in this boulder, sunning ourselves like blue-bellied skinks.