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On hot, windless summer days, neighborhood children found ways to stay busy for hours without screens. Against a soundtrack of cooing doves and buzzing locusts, clover chains and homemade parades became major undertakings.

Carol and her friend Susie mastered the art of weaving clover blossoms together. They searched for flowers with the longest stems, sometimes discovering bees underfoot along the way. Each chain grew as they knotted one stalk loosely, threaded another through it, then tightened the loop beneath the next blossom.

One summer, the pair resolved to create a chain stretching an entire block. When the project outlasted the first day, Carol’s mother let her preserve the damp, folded chain in a refrigerator overnight. By the end of day two, the wilted clovers covered what they considered an abbreviated block.

The children also staged neighborhood parades, decorating bicycles with crepe-paper streamers woven through the spokes and assigning roles based on each participant’s personality.

Johnny, who later joined the military, led the procession from his tricycle while wearing a cowboy hat and blowing a whistle. Gwennie appeared as the parade queen in a tiara, while athletic Bonnie served as the acrobat.

The young fraternal twins from up the street were not old enough to pedal, so Carol pulled them in a decorated wagon while playing the clown. Susie, the youngest child able to walk and small for her age, smiled as she wandered along with the group.

With nearly every child marching, there was almost no one left to watch. Their mothers filled the gap, gathering in front yards with cameras while waving and applauding as the procession passed.

Long before mobile phones and tablets became fixtures of childhood, simple materials, ambitious plans and an enthusiastic neighborhood audience could occupy an entire summer day.