More than a walk in the park.

We moved from Cleveland Park to Adams Morgan. At the time, I had no comprehension that we had only moved from one side of the National Zoo to the other. Well, that is until feeding time on our first evening in our new home. Right around 5:00 pm, the roars of hungry lions and tigers came drifting over the wooded area behind our new row home. It was early summer. My sidekick, brother Chris and I had visions of Ramar of the Jungle or maybe King Kong roaming the wooded area.

One morning, early, I deftly unlocked the back door and led my brother down the alley adjacent to our home. Following the morning serenade of wild animals, we marched down Beach Drive to the Klingle Ford area. We had traveled almost a mile and a half.

Stealthily moving through the woods, alert for any charging will animals. Did I mention, we had never actually been to the zoo. Furthermore, our father had been having us read “Bring’em back alive” by Frank Buck. As far as we knew, we had walked to Africa. I mean where else would lions and tigers roar and elephants trumpet? At any rate we were hot and tired. We sat by a tree and shared a jelly sandwich I had made that morning.

Fortified, we began moving to a clearing so we might have a better chance of seeing wild animals before they saw us. We peeked. Awestruck. Across the way were two gigantic elephants. Just standing there. Two G.I.A.N.T. elephants. Having no idea how fast they could run, we turned around and discovered how fast we could run. All the way home, certain that humongous beasts were close on our heels, we ran and ran and ran. Reaching the safety of our backyard, we sat down with a worried eye on the alley that led to the woods that led to spot where we saw the elephants.

We never did that again.

Years later, remembering that long walk to Africa and the majestic beasts residing there, I drew and elephant and had it tattooed on my arm. Art just finds a way.