Nothing compares to the sound of nature; in dwelling
in the sweet sound of delicate wildlife and submerging yourself in the serene
infinite stretch of the horizon. Nothing compares to a quiet place, wrapped
around you with the warmth of silence hanging above the noise and chaos of the
world below. Nothing compares to the sharp slap that comes with knowing that
come a couple decades, all around the world, we may have lesser silences to go
to, less spaces of nature to inhabit.
One
in red trousers and an oversized ‘masculine-intended’ dress shirt (pilfered
from a father), wild hair and an undoubtedly tortuous sense of humour (I joke),
and the others as they well intend to be.
And my Father had to ask me where my feet/legs had
disappeared to, ‘feetless at this moment.’ I told him. Shaking his head, he walks away with an amused look on his face as all
grownups seem inclined to do, as if to say “Kids these days!”