I used to sing to the trees. Pretended that I could control the wind. It wasn't pretend, it was believe. 

I used to sit outside to watch the thunderstorm. Braved the sounds of the thunder, stared in awe at lightning. 

I used to believe that the air at night was much fresher, much sweeter than that in the morning. I didn't care what science told me about oxygen & carbon dioxide, because it really didn't matter to me. 

I used to wake up real early, just as the sun peeked out from behind the trees, to watch the little duck-like creature with it's little duckling-like babies march across the grass in a straight line, like they do in cartoons.

I used to play the piano when I was upset. I'd play the same song over & over & over again till my fingers hurt. By then, I'd have forgotten why I was sad.

I used to love walks. Lovely, peaceful, tranquil walks with people. & we'd talk about the unimportant & unnecessary things in life. The love of life. The flow of life. 

I used to love insects & plants. I'd spend my days in the library reading up on them, being thoroughly fascinated by how these little things worked - Like magical toys that operated themselves. 

I loved gardening. Love running to the park to sit on the rock to hear the water flow. 

& in all these things, I felt so much joy, felt so much love. 

& then what happened? 

I simply forgot.

But not anymore.