Bordeaux and Palmiers

This time of year gets me thinking about the island off the coast of Toronto. Most of the year, it’s really too cold to enjoy it, but for my 19th birthday in 2006, when I lived there, my friends and I got on the ferry and brought a picnic out to frolic.

I’ve mentioned the fact that I like city parks, but I might like the island even more. You leave the city for just a day, and in less than an hour, there is a beach and fields and trees to climb.

The island makes me regress a little bit. My friend Rachael and I spent hours on the swings and exploring the jetty, while down on the beach, we put together a game of American football, 3 vs. 3. As for me, I was most excited for climbing trees.

When I was younger, I loved being in the tree in our front yard on Long Island. I carved my initials into my favorite branch, and I would bring a book up with me to read. I was fearless.

Even in high school, once the weather got nice on our Massachusetts campus, I would bring my homework out to the lawn in front of our dorm and laze on a branch while reading Slaughterhouse Five.

I’m not fearless anymore, though. When I got myself up that tree on the island, I had a very hard time getting down. I miss the days when I didn’t think about my ankles every time I tried to jump out of a tree. I miss the days when I just jumped.

Every once in awhile, it’s nice to remember the things you did when you were young.

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