I can’t fly, I already tried

Since I was a small kid, I’ve always had an awe-like adamantine appreciation for the world of sky and the world of water. They were untouchable, undiscovered universes that lay right there, infused in my senses, yet forbidden.

If I dare approach them, they would always unrelentingly demand a password before allowing a scratch at their surface, “oxygen” would gain me a hand full of seconds to see the soothing vast hues of the abyss and a flash of colour as a fish darted away. The microscopic life forms that floated adrift in its body, to and fro so lazily, reminded me of the sky, an underwater sky only seen once the gates had been opened, the surface broken. Then the gates closed! My password would run dry and I’d be forced to return home with the instant intent to go back. “Oxygen!” It granted me instant access to this mysterious land again and again, without fail. I became so good at lengthening my time here, this place started to feel more like home compared to my solid dwelling which was overwhelming populated by those who could not see or would not care for such a fluid place. It’s quiet here, colourful, enticing, soothing and non judging. The demanding demeanour of its more dangerous aspects didn’t sway me from exploring its watery secrets either, I felt comfortable in its mysteries and untenable assurance of safety.

My days on land would make me wonder how long it would take for me to cover every inch of ground by taking heel directly to toe steps, so that every single bit of land had been stepped on. If everyone on Earth left a permanent heat signature from where they walked, would there be any untouched spots, I knew there would be, and I wanted to walk them! I wanted to see inside every building ever built and watch every cloud ever formed. I wanted to be a cloud, like the clouds I saw at the ‘low blue’; the ocean, but the ones in the ‘high blue’; the sky, although they floated up there, they seemed like they carried the weight of a thousand armies sometimes, at the brink of executing an order on command. Then other days it seemed as though they were pretending to be there, lightly gazing upon the scurrying life forms beneath them, winking back at those who would stand still to notice them, then disperse. I wanted to be up there with them, so one day I tried.

The password for this place is “gravity”. I guessed it pretty quick smart when a few fleeting split seconds later saw me face down in the grass from the carport roof. It hurt, but I wasn’t deterred, I figured I’d keep trying, even from higher vantage points, just to gain that little bit extra time in the high blue. I imagine now, anyone looking on would have thought I needed psychiatric help and I kneel down to praise the gods that I never broke any bones. I was trying to fly but my password barely lasted here, the high blue was definitely the most difficult to explore.

I gave this carport base jump act up when I discovered it was much less painful and fun to jump from a bridge into water. Could you believe it, from high blue straight in to low blue, I had really found my happy place as a kid. I’d take any and every opportunity to go to the rivers, creeks, waterfalls and rock slides. The tropical paradise that rushed past my skin as I soared through the high blue, then the instant the lush liquid would accept my torpedo stance, brought me so much happiness and a sense of freedom. Mother once told me she had to run and jump in after me when I toddler-ed my way, quite hastily into a rushing estuary that was going out to sea. Thank you for saving my life mum!

Then I guess, adulthood got in the way and here I am, back on land typing away at this story, not stepping on the untouched heat signature-less patches and not opening doors to every building. Not to worry though, I’ve already done it in my dreams!

** Discover stuff

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