There was one day of my life which sticks in my mind and will not fade, yet which is one of my earliest memories. In fact, I say it’s a day but it’s really a moment.
When I was 2 years old my parents took me to Canada to visit family there. We went in September and so I was introduced to the wonder that is the Canadian Fall. My memory is that of standing on a crisp, bright morning, and craning my neck to stare at the magical trees. The sky was so bright, the sun was on the leaves, there was that Autumn smell. Inside me was a feeling of utterly abandoned joy.
I crunch the leaves underfoot each year. They are a shadow of that day. Memories are only that; the being-in-that-moment as a small child on the brink of endless possibility is what I would like to have again.