I used to be able to do cartwheels.
Glorious things, really…
One at a time, several in a row. Didn’t matter. Pigtails flying through the filtered sunlight. Just for a few seconds, head upside down, world gone topsy-turvy.
Giggling, challenging each other who can do more. Green grass, lush in the wealth of summer, beckoning us to give it a try.
Those who could balance on magical hands, had superpowers. For a split second we were air-borne, shrieking in delight at our newfound prowess.
The more cartwheels, the more invincible you were.
I miss those heady days of summer. When “Go outside and play”, truly meant the world. A ticket to who knows what.
Memories that will last a lifetime? Definitely.
But “Go outside and play” meant freedom. So I’d tie my tennis shoes laces. Done in bunny-style ears of course, so I wouldn’t trip.
Face upturned towards the sun.
Arms up, get ready…
Time to do a cartwheel.