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  • When I was a 7-9 years old, every morning, we would gather around the drain system at our school. (School starts at 8 in the morning, and I always arrive at 7).

    It was almost always raining.

    We would drop pieces of leaves into the drain. Sometimes we drop tiny pieces of twigs.

    We raced along the drains, watching the leaves and twigs bounce along the surface of the water. I think it was my first course in physics. Sometimes we split up because our leaves would flow into separate streams. The flow of water had always mesmerized me.

    When it wasn't raining, we would fish frog spawn out of the drains with larger twigs. The braver ones amongst us would try to catch the baby frogs. They were probably half the size of my finger nail.

    Sometimes we tickled each other's uniform (we wore uniforms) with love grass. They always stick to your clothes.

    The hills were always there. I often stared at them. We had big windows back then. You could smell the rain and grass from the classroom.

    I would imagine that I were the blades of grass, the clouds, the trees, and the earth.

    This waterfall overlooking the bluest lake I have ever seen brought me back to those years, so many thousands of miles away.

    Once again, I felt every part of my being, and imagined what it would be like to be every blade of grass, every piece of rock, every dance in the stream, every rainbow in the bubbles in this magical place.

    I think it would be rather splendid.
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