Living in the city, no matter the size, is waking in the morning to the smell and feel of fresh night air. A yawn and a stretch later, that intoxicating aroma is smothered by the sickening odor of exhaust and fumes of an awaking city full of automobiles rushing to a destination of “another day, another dollar” hoping to make ends meet in an increasingly greedy world.
Closing the window as if closing my mind to this life in the city where each house surrounding ours feels like claustrophobia crowding out the freedom I felt on the four acres that was once our home in the country. Will my longing for a return to that life ever cease?
Children’s eyes are different. They do not view life the same as adult’s eyes do. Young people see each day or each event as an opportunity for adventure.
Recently, my grandson and his friend shared an ephemeral moment in the rain, one of those moments that was as forever memorable as it was fleeting.
Two eight-year-old boys walking in the rain, pouring from giant buckets in the clouds. They could barely see their water soaked shoes as they splashed through growing puddles on their journey toward a moment of discovery two blocks away… pipes and drains, drain fields, and rising water. How did the water get in the pipes? Why was the water rushing out of them like a firehose? How much water could the drain field hold?
Shivering, wet, and cold, yet undeterred, they returned home full of excitement and questions about their discovery, each of them barely noticing the towels their mothers wrapped around their soaking wet bodies, heads shaking the water out of their hair like puppies shaking their furry bodies, twisting and turning and wagging their tails hoping someone will pay attention to them and pet them lovingly.
This was a moment frozen in my mind as I longed to be eight again to feel the freedom and excitement of new discoveries… even in rain-soaked clothing. Not having a care in the world other than having fun with my friend in a field in the rain. Even in the city…. Children’s eyes are different.
I wish that at almost 60, I could relax and enjoy the freedom of discovery on a rainy afternoon like a child, and not worry about my shoes being wet, or my hair looking flat, or water dripping onto the carpet upon my return. Adults view life differently.
I’m not saying one decade of life is better or worse than another. It’s just different. Ahhhhh….











