Every kid, well, speaking from experience, every boy (and probably every girl) once had, thought they had, or tried to make
a cave/fort/hideout/secret place. Some never gave it up.
Some didn't have to.
This is a hole with no name. Every village, every small town has children of all ages who know where these places are.
The names they might carry are personal and unrecorded, just like the depths to which they have been explored and the depths
to which they have not.
I found these, one day. From the inside out and outside in ... ...mystery and curiosity. Every bend a milestone, every bend a footnote to the next milestone.
Thousands of caves are without names. Thousands are the former and current hideouts and secret places of once and current kids.
Thousands are the hideouts of kids yet to come. Waiting to be discovered. Looking for a secret occupant. Waiting for discovery.
Standing thousands of years in the jungles without witness
I forgot most of the terms once dangled before me. Karst. Graben. Cenotes. Some flood back when the batteries fade and the way back seems sketchy. Be Prepared. Boyscout memories seem all the more important.
Not that prepared, turning back.
Another time.
Another cave.
No comments:
Post a Comment