A golf course isn't just for golfing.

I love my neighborhood, especially this time of year when the daily golfers that frequent our neighborhood golf course are slowly weeded out by colder weather.  Which means we have 18 holes of beautifully manicured lawn to claim as our own.  And claim we do.  We spend our time gathering pinecones and wildflowers for collections and throwing twirly whirlies into the river that runs through the course.  We roll down the hills and play on the golf cart bridges.  We send paper sailboats under the bridge and occasionally we venture over to the 18^th hole and feed the ducks.   I love to run on the putting green barefoot.  Coolest feeling ever.  And when it snows we will pull our kids on snow sleds around the untouched golf course snow.  And I’m sure someday – when my kids are bigger – they will beg to dive for lost golf balls in the rivers banks.  And I'll let them.  To a diehard golfer {read: most my neighborhood} we are probably offendeding their sacred turf.  But we aren’t golfers, so we see no harm.

[[pictures of Sunday evening on the golf course]]