Fallen Leaves

The hill that leads into the park near our flat was yesterday filled with fallen leaves, blurring the lines between the concrete of the pathway and the muddy sides if the hill.

The morning frost had crisped and curled the leaves, ensuring that as I walked on them, a satisfying crunch accompanied each step. My mind raced back to thoughts of childhood, kicking around the leaves in the park and I briefly tried to recall what I would have thought then. Although I was reminded of childhood in this moment, I couldn't escape from the experiences that I carry with me now, and mourned that days of carefree kicking of the casualties of autumn are long since behind me.

I walked through the same park today, hoping once again to be able to crunch and remember those childhood days again but found the overnight rain had dramatically altered the terrain. The leaves still lay in their abstract way, but today posed an altogether different challenge as they blurred the boundary between path and park. The rain stored on each leaf meant that the joy and crunch of each step from the previous today was not to be found. Instead, the conditions meant that each step was a challenge and a risk of slipping down the hill became a real possibility with each further step I embarked on.

After successfully navigating the path and getting into the park, I realised it was a desire for nostalgia that had taken me that route again. And, in trying to think about the old days, I risked injury that could have ruined the present day.

Coming across things that suddenly remind you of old times is a fun experience,and in that moment maybe it is right to think about days past. But going looking for them is a dangerous thing to do, potentially at the expense of the present.