I found this in the pocket of one of my many photo bags.
My brother and I would play marbles at my grandmother's house when we were young. There was a perfectly round pot hole on the sidewalk that lead to her front door; everyone used the side door to get into her house. We'd play for hours. For me, it wasn't about knocking the most marbles out of the pot hole. Instead, I would try to win the most beautiful ones.