“Weeeee!!!!” the shrills of the frolicking children in the park, some on the carousel, spinning their time away with fun laughter; some on the swings, flying as high as they could touch the fluffy dragon-shaped clouds; some were sliding down the steel slide which were as hot as an turned on iron, giggling, shrieking when they were sliding down.
Sand castles were temporal, yet the children still built them, determined to build their dream place to stay, a wall of fortified sand and water, would still crumble back into a pile of sand, where another structure, another imagination was built at another point in time.
Bugs were difficult, too small to catch; toads kept slipping away; grasshoppers were too swift. With a child-like, simplistic faith, nothing too small, nothing too slippery, nothing too fast to be caught. They fell, they climbed back unto their feet; they fell again, mud stained their legs as they crawled back up; again they fell, they scrambled on their feet; they fell, they got back up, knowing nothing about failure, having the savvy that trying, failing was part of the way to success.
The realisation of failure, the cruel part of life where you learnt how to give up. That was where people failed, the four-letter word where people lost their fortitude to face. It was easy to dream, a strong aegis of fire was needed to secure it, an igneous, ever-glowing flame, hope.
The paper planes flitted across my sight, “Look! Daddy! Look! My plane is flying! ” in the usual high-pitched children voice.