Fearless I was as a tot. Intrepid I was.
It’s funny how naïvety blinds you from the fact that we are in fact fragile, mortal beings and just about any object can penetrate our defenceless skin and well – we can die.
Take me back to the years growing up on an island. The younger child who nurtured caterpillars. The younger girl who played like a little boy. Oh how I miss the days.
Did you know that sitting on the rooftop in silence is quite relaxing? Did you know that the Earth is beautiful? I don’t think we’ve really thought about that quite often.
Take me back to the years growing up on an island. The young child that would climb guava trees and borrow pomegranates from the neighbours’ trees. The young child that would climb up on the rooftop after being told incalculable times that I’d break something on me. It hasn’t happened yet. Breaking something.
Did you know that the seas are quite relaxing when walking the shores alone? Did you know that the ocean can be under appreciated when you live 2 minutes away from the beach – walking distance? I can’t swim.
Take me back to the years growing up on an island. Running along the rooftop
thinking knowing that I can fly. Jumping from guava tree to sugar-apple tree to sapodilla tree to – that tree I don’t know the name of. I got caught sneaking away to play through a shortcut in the bush once. Fun day that was.
Did you know that in the teensy-weeny district of Whitby there are dozens of shortcuts in the bushes? They’re quite helpful. The settlement is beautiful.
I wish I was naïve again. To be fearless and fly from tree to tree. To be aerodynamic and light. To be unpretentious and carefree. As a young adult, I’m too careful.
It’s liberating. To be child again. Flight is a possible as a child.