Water babies


June 8

If I were part of Captain Planet’s crew, I’d be Gi (I always spelt it Gee but Wikipedia says otherwise). Not because she’s the Asian in the group but because her element is water. And even though I swim like a baby cow (in other words, very poorly and comically), I love water. Waterfalls, thunderstorms, lakes, rivers, even puddles make me happy. Not to mention the sea.

I miss you Arabian sea, with your gray-brown waters and warm sandy shores glinting under the bright sun. Dig your feet into the sand and just anchor yourself there, the cold, smooth sand covering your feet and then the waves rush up and over, and you feel the earth move.

We went to the lake today and walked on the trail that circles the water. There was an explosion of fitness all around us as people walked, jogged, ran and biked on the dirt path. There were the shirtless, sweaty men who breathed out in short, accurately spaced-out whoof, whoofs, and the wonder women who ran as they pushed their baby in a stroller and held on to the leash of their small dog that was barely keeping pace. My favorite walkers are old people. Not just because they don’t make me feel like a sack of potatoes on legs, but because they look so cute holding hands and walking together.

(I want to grow old with you. How cute will we be. In theory, at least.)

And then I love it when little kids run around in fountains. The fountains that like to surprise you, unpredictable like St. Louis weather, spurting out from different corners at different times. Tiny little kids love those. There was a bunch of toddlers in diapers and shirts, running around in small circles, waving their hands in the air or clapping excitedly. There was a baby crawling (I feel like he was big enough to at least walk but maybe he was just lazy) around, and two kids sitting in a blue floating tube. Which was obviously not floating because there was not enough water.
The kids running around, screaming and shouting happily make me envious. I want to do that. And then I think back to college and remember when Mony and I would do that, on campus, at night, just run really fast and yell. In front of the boys’ dorms. Yep. We were those girls.

Or when Hera and I ran into the hail rain outside our dorms, squealing and waving are hands around like we were mad chickens.

The good old days. I like Austin, with its weird frogs on the wall that ask how you are, or yellow robots that grin at you on pedestrian crossings as your step over or around them, the constant notes of music clashing in the night air, and those little cycle-rickshaws that glow with subtle decorative lighting downtown.

I hope I continue to take time out to squeal, wave and run every now and then. Its therapeutic. And walk into unpredictable fountains. Taking pleasure in little things like chasing birds, or jumping off a step that's hardly five inches off the ground with the effort and expressions more suitable on a serious sportsman's face as he takes a leap off the edge of a cliff. A ride on your dad's shoulders, which doll to take with you on this trip to the diner? 


                                           

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