I can hear the names echoing through my neighborhood. I live about a mile north of War Memorial Stadium and listened to the Little Rock School District high school graduation ceremonies reverberate.
I sat in the shade of a large campus oak tree, mesmerized by the sun piercing the stained glass. I moved my head slightly and a new prism appeared; the other way and yet another color shot through. A church bell swept back and forth slowly and the wind carried its low vibrations through neatly groomed gardens and trails.
I crossed the I-430 bridge as the sun rose above the Arkansas River. May is a busy month in a high school and, for that reason, I rarely leave town during this month. I had graduation practice to tend to, final exams to grade, and various end-of-year celebrations to finalize, but I still left.