When I was a kid, we lived in a nice ranch house in a nice neighborhood. Directly behind our house was a bridge that crossed a double set of railroad tracks that came and went as far as I could see. Often the open cars would be carrying coal stuffed to the brim, and every jostle would litter blocks of it onto the ground. My main playground in the days before abduction was a concern, were those tracks. I'd climb through a hole in the fence to the left of my back yard and slide down the steep embankment, skidding in my Keds. Occasionally grabbing on to the hand hewn beams supporting the bridge to steady myself, my fingers might get sticky from the tar on the wood, but it made it easier to collect the coal. I brought them back and my mother would put the coal in a saucer, mix up some solution with amonia and food coloring and we'd pour it over. Before long there'd be a fantasy garden of pastel colored powder that had grown on the coal. Did you ever do this? CLICK HERE