Some of the memories are still visible, but many are covered up. The giant hole we played in after removing the palm tree is now a landscaped area where no hands are permitted to dig. The old, sturdy wooden shed where we held club meetings has been replaced by a flimsy metal shed that houses yard equipment. The carpeted stairs we used to slide down in plastic containers have been ripped out and replaced with sturdier wood stairs that are far too dangerous for such games. Two of the trees that we used to build forts out of sheets and clothespins were uprooted. I could go on and on.
The city itself has also changed tremendously. Many of the buildings have modern facades that no longer match the cities quaint beginnings. A Starbucks recently opened and I didn't even think the city was big enough for one (the population signs say about 30,000). There are also a lot more apartment buildings. All these new sights made it difficult for me to see the city where I was brought up, the place I used to know. And while the memories will always be in my head, they are no longer in the place I called home.