When I was a lot younger, my mother, sister and I went to visit family-friends in their beautiful vineyard outside of Cape Town. They had the lushest, largest Mulberry trees I had ever seen. We came to collect a bunch of their leaves to feed to our silkworms at home.
My mother and sister went inside for tea - but I would have none of it. My imagination raced ahead of me into the vineyards and my body followed suit. I was a brave explorer, venturing into the Wilderness on a mission to collect the treasured leaves that would feed my desperate companions.
My feet pounded on the soft soil while my eyes were constantly on the lookout for "baddies" that may threaten my path.
I grabbed as many leaves as I could in my little fists, and when they were full - victory! I turned around with an elated heart, a proud grin and...and...
The path was gone.
What lay before me was a haze of green. I had ran in so many circles that the way back was about as clear to me as the route to my house in Cape Town.
My eyes brimmed over with tears. I clutched my leaves and walked timidly. I moved in zigzags through that leafy maze as my heart constantly fluttered with the birds above my head.
Finally through the slits of my eyes I made out the house.
I burst into the room and clasped my mother tightly. All I remember from the rest of that evening is my mother's comforting scent, absolute relief and plenty of affection.
I haven't changed much. Physically, I am infamous amongst my family and friends for getting lost. My imagination tugs me toward all sorts experiences and activities. Often is this kick started by a beautiful landscape - be it mountains, rivers or fields. I love to play. That explorative child still giggles within. Today she manifests herself in studying English and Media at the University of Cape Town. She also dabbles in art, philosophy, music, film, travel, yoga, festivals, dancing, dreaming and ridiculous recklessness (on occassion).
When I arrived home after my whirlwind of a day, I went straight to my room and gently placed the Mulberry leaves in my silkworms' box. Soon afterwards they thanked me in the form of glistening silk that decorated their box like strips of confetti.
To this day, I have always been a firm believer in life's hazy greens and beautiful silk.