no title

We’ve been here before - almost a decade ago.
I remember the glaciers larger, the water bluer.
It sounds like the classic, “things were better in my childhood”.
Has the world aged?
I thought of these natural wonders as immovable, unchangeable, static.
Isn’t it always like that - how can anything so grand ever be anything less?
But the world is alive;
the mountains grow
the glaciers retreat
the trees
breathe.

Perhaps it was only my nine year old imagination that coloured the world brighter, bigger. Along with the hyperopic lens of hindsight and nostalgia for younger times (sentence fragment).

Ah, what good is it to ache for the innocence of children or the invincibility of adolescents - it’s a wasteful and easy wistfulness, unbecoming for an aged eighteen with all of adulthood left to live.