Wind – memory

As I sit here at this very minute I can here the rustle of the wind through the tress, listening to the song it plays I am taken back to my childhood where I would spend hours swinging on the trapeze that hung over my mothers gigantic garden or shall I say Jungle. My mother loved to garden unfortunately however pruning and clearing pathways weren’t high on her priority list and yet this was probably a blessing as it made for the best games of hidey go seek and set an amazing background for imaginary play. When I would swing back and forth on the trapeze I would giggle every time I heard the whoosh of the wind beneath my feet, it felt like I was a fairy soaring high among the clouds.

Isn’t it funny how the smallest of things can take us back years or bring tears to our eyes. I look to the wind now with that innocent giggle in my heart and as a sign of change as ‘The Scorpions’ would have put it.

wind – memory

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