We laugh wildly on our walk. The trees let out their roots as we slip and stumble our way through them. Too many children and not enough adults. We march like the lost boys, hunting pirates, seeking treasure. The long tumble of mermaid falls will be our victory. We are neither nimble or quick, but we are filled with gleeful ambition.
They climb the dusty hills and slide down, shrieking in glee. We watch them cover themselves in dirt and filth. There is no mess too big for a child to find and slop through like a pig in need of the cool.
These are our offspring. Wild and captivating. They hunt snakes and hope for sights of bears.
We arrive at the cool spring filling with the cascading water of the falls and they dive in half starved for the chill, the slap of brisk against their skin.
It streaks with the dust and leaves trails of mud down their baby soft cheeks.
This is the moment. This is childhood.
For some it was just a walk to the falls, but for us, it was magic, and mystery.
No comments:
Post a Comment