Those who know, come. Those who come, know.
As kids we waited expectantly for Santa or Hannukah Harry or whoever brought us toys and goodies, and on a good year a new bike. Now we buy our own toys and count the days until the first Hopper. Those who come, know. Those who know, come. I can't explain them. Won't even try. I know what the season of Hoppers means to me, but what is a Hopper to you? It's not so difficult as describing a first love, or the smell of a burning ant as boy discovers magnifying glass, but there is something nebulous, organic, difficult to sum up about a Grasshopper. Send me your description along with a photo or video clip that shows or symbolizes the experience and I'll post them from time to time. Use the email link on my profile and send as a word document.