When I was a boy I was already very aware of time passing. It was as though I felt in the very core of my inner being how each single moment would never return, how each split second of alertness would evaporate into oblivion, never to be seen again. Gone in an instant would be all the feelings and thoughts that that time unit had yielded to me.
Once, during a family holiday in Germany, we were camping at a lakeside. My brother and I would take turns, floating on the lake in our inflatable boat, the sunshine warm and rich in late summer. Whilst afloat and very drowsy and deeply relaxed, it dawned on me that the future me would probably never be able to recall exactly how I felt at that very moment, floating around a lake, feeling so much; thinking about a million different things that, at my tender age, I could scarcely fathom.
In later life I developed a bit of a penchant for nostalgia so with hindsight, perhaps, I am able to recall more of what it was like to be that boy. The nostalgia itself, however, renders everything moody and a tad forlorn. Oh, my sepia heart..
Once, during a family holiday in Germany, we were camping at a lakeside. My brother and I would take turns, floating on the lake in our inflatable boat, the sunshine warm and rich in late summer. Whilst afloat and very drowsy and deeply relaxed, it dawned on me that the future me would probably never be able to recall exactly how I felt at that very moment, floating around a lake, feeling so much; thinking about a million different things that, at my tender age, I could scarcely fathom.
In later life I developed a bit of a penchant for nostalgia so with hindsight, perhaps, I am able to recall more of what it was like to be that boy. The nostalgia itself, however, renders everything moody and a tad forlorn. Oh, my sepia heart..
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