We lived near the bush, on the edge of a national park in Wahroonga back in the sixties and we would always be down the creek or climbing the rocks or exploring. It was a wonderful few years. I recall a kinship with gumtrees, kookaburras, tadpoles, small waterfalls, dirt and sticks...
At school I really loved playtime. Playing with other kids was just so thoroughly enjoyable to me. I wished we could play all the time. I was pretty good at pegging rocks. That was a big thing around the age of 8 and 9. A couple of us concentrated on honing our skills - distance and accuracy both attention worthy.
Also the game with the four squares and the tennis ball. Fantastic! Playing truly delighted me. At times I was giddy with enthusiasm and joy while playing a new game outside - like chasings or marbles. Recollecting now, as I write, I can remember the simple, intense happiness that I sometimes felt. Phew. It was beautiful, blissful. I had no idea at all really, what life was going to be like - no concept of anything other than the pure aliveness of a kid.
Firecrackers, slippery dips, buying a mixed bag of lollies - freckles, milkbottles, frogs - going to other kid's houses to play, new kids moving in next door or across the road maybe with a dog or two, ad-libbed games on the street with other kids until sunset....
And seahorses. Seahorses. I was glad to live in a world that included the seahorse.