Broomweeds
There were vacant fields near our home in Austin. One field in particular was a solid field of broomweeds that were probably about a foot and a half to two feet tall. We could crawl through a field of broomweeds without being detected by others if we first pulled up the weeds to make a path. We even cleared areas large enough to call them “rooms.” Then we could play house there.
Behind our house the yard sloped down to Bouldin Creek. We would go down to the creek to wade and play. Jimmy and Bobby sometimes would fish and catch perch in a pool below the ten-foot waterfall. I recall that the steep slope down to the creek was almost impossible for me to climb up without help. But, one day some big old 7-year-olds (12-year-olds?) across the creek threw rocks at us and called us names. Terrified, I cried. We ran away, and had to climb that impossible slope up the creek bank; but, by grabbing a small root that should have broken and maybe did, I made it to the top as though in a dead run. Fear motivates!