When I remember back to my childhood, there are certain occasions that stand out as being pure magic. Where life diverges from the ordinary and you end up in some alternate space where the rules that normally bind your budding existence no longer apply.
Today I took my boys to Wellington point for the afternoon. It was such a gorgeous day and the baby was in a good mood so we decided to stay on a little longer than we'd planned. The shadows began to lengthen, the sun mellowed and coated us in its viscous honey light, a gentle breeze came up off the water. Families packed up and left, and others started arriving with their picnic teas.
Watching my older boy run and play among the giant fig trees with his band of newly found friends reminded me of evenings spent on the beach as a child. The awareness that I had then of the day ebbing and drawing to a close, and the thrill of still being out on the beach, free, with night approaching. The feeling that this was a special day, a day different to all the others, a day fully lived.
Those were magic times, I wonder if my son will remember back to this day in the same way. As the sun finally sets and we head home, I think to myself that we should do this more often