I feel a twinge of jealousy when I hear people describing evocative childhood memories that are so intricately linked with nature. Pure, innocent memories filled with the delight of exploration and discovery, with knowledge and appreciation. Memories that shaped their relationship with nature. In many cases, a relationship of reciprocity.
It's not that my childhood was devoid of nature. On the contrary, we were exposed to it from a young age. But my memories are vague and unarticulated because I enjoyed nature as an abstract whole. They lack the vividness that comes from paying attention.
But it's not too late to be mindful and it's never too late to create those memories, build that relationship.
Plant a window garden to lure Sunbirds, watch with barely contained glee as they come to feed on the Hibiscus.
Learn the names of your local trees, their relationship with the backyard birds. Observe them change through the year.
Mangoes shining in the dark, carpets of copperpods and bougain, dancing butterflies, ephemeral spider webs, praying mantis lurking within magnolias, the smell of son champa and raat rani.
Explore the intertidal, fall in love with the shore as you come across an abundance of life beyond your wildest imagination.
These moments may lack the carefree enthusiasm and youthful conviction that the world will always be this beautiful, coloured as they are by the threat of capitalistic notions of development and climate change. But they still have the potential to momentarily grant that elusive serenity as you come into the peace of wild things.
Start small, the birds and trees outside your window, a neighbourhood park. Our city is brimming with life, much of it threatened, just waiting for us to look, learn, love.
And maybe that love can motivate us to protect and restore. To reciprocate.