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The seasonal rush of young children to our beach areas over the recent holidays brought bright scenes.
Their tiny legs and feet moved swiftly over the sands, like sandpipers, and they ran endlessly, chasing gulls into and out of the soft surf.
They brought classy new scooters, too, dodging around pedestrians, racing up and down condo driveways or onto vacant tennis courts.
In my day, we built scooters of discarded orange crates nailed end-up on two-by-fours, with roller-skate wheels attached underneath. We added wooden handles and carried things on the shelves, using flashlights at night.
It was our feet pushing us, however. Wonderful, …