I saw a young family walking through the city the other day, and for no reason I can identify, it made me start to feel little. They were in front of me, so I never saw their faces, but there was the dad, walking on the outside of the mother, who was pushing a pram. Walking on her inside was a little boy of perhaps 4-5 years of age.
It wasn't anything in particular I guess, just the actions of the little boy as he walked along. He kept one hand on the pram as he hurried alongside his parents. They weren't walking quickly, but his little legs we're hurrying to keep up.
But it was the sense of childish wonderment about him that regressed me. His head kept swivelling around as he tried to take in as much as possible.
As they walked past a park, he kept really staring at every tree he passed, then watched a flock of birds overhead. The next thing was a parked car that took his interest. It wasn't a fancy car, but for some reason out of all the cars he passed, something about that particular one interested him. A guy on a bike cycled past, and you could see him lock onto it and stare with interest as it went past.
As he turned to watch, I saw his face, and he had the biggest grin and looked so happy.
It didn't trigger any particular memory of mine, but I did recall just happily walking around with my parents, feeling safe and loved, and treating even the most mundane shopping trip as an adventure. There was always something new to see and do, and the feeling of having to try and absorb as much as I possibly could.
I wonder at what age we stop doing this, and a walk becomes just that, a walk, and not an adventure.
I actually felt slightly sad after this, realising that I've almost completely lost my sense of joy and wonder at the simple things.
It wasn't anything in particular I guess, just the actions of the little boy as he walked along. He kept one hand on the pram as he hurried alongside his parents. They weren't walking quickly, but his little legs we're hurrying to keep up.
But it was the sense of childish wonderment about him that regressed me. His head kept swivelling around as he tried to take in as much as possible.
As they walked past a park, he kept really staring at every tree he passed, then watched a flock of birds overhead. The next thing was a parked car that took his interest. It wasn't a fancy car, but for some reason out of all the cars he passed, something about that particular one interested him. A guy on a bike cycled past, and you could see him lock onto it and stare with interest as it went past.
As he turned to watch, I saw his face, and he had the biggest grin and looked so happy.
It didn't trigger any particular memory of mine, but I did recall just happily walking around with my parents, feeling safe and loved, and treating even the most mundane shopping trip as an adventure. There was always something new to see and do, and the feeling of having to try and absorb as much as I possibly could.
I wonder at what age we stop doing this, and a walk becomes just that, a walk, and not an adventure.
I actually felt slightly sad after this, realising that I've almost completely lost my sense of joy and wonder at the simple things.