It has been said that the day you think about the future is the day you leave your childhood behind. In that sense, the day our children have to consider adult comments such as “you are going to be a doctor when you grow up”, is the day the sun sets on their childhood.
Do you remember falling in love with a yellowing page? A rock, a few grains of sand, a drawn-out crescendo, a bittersweet smell in the air? It is a consuming obsessive passion, hard to articulate within and between the lines. Do you remember as a child you had a sense that time is not of the essence? You may have watched an ant for an hour, stared at the clouds for an afternoon, blown bubbles with your saliva?
