puddles

most of the time it’s not so fun being grown-up. too little time, too many responsibilities, seldom any fun…

but when the summer rains come, like image

now, and there’s enough rain to make large puddles on pavements and in strange places, and one has sandals on (because in the city one should not walk barefoot – it’s dangerous), then one can wade into the puddles and make mud flowers, and watch reflections of trees and the evergrey sky… and feel the freedom adulthood gives, to stand up to one’s ankles in the puddle, undeterred by the shouts of sensibility or fear or plain forgetting of the fun that this simple activity provides. because sometimes the unsophisticated things of childhood bring a liberating crazy touch to the confines of the sense and sensibility, and norms and suchlike.

this almost beats laughing in the rain. almost.

Categories: En

4 thoughts on “puddles

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