An American pastime, still playing out today.
The sounds, the smells, the spinning moving lights, all these and more creating an atmosphere. Engaging all of our senses. Bringing many a smile to children everywhere.
As children we could hardly have thought that these strong memories might hold on to us still. Vibrating through our lives.
Every year they draw us back, pull us back to them, these past experiences, these old memories coming alive in the eyes of our children.
Giving us a glimpse, a momentary reclaiming of our own childhood. These “Carnys” giving us, if even just for a little while a reminder of the innocence we had then. How we lived easily in the moment, riding the “Tilt a Whirl”
No cares, no problems, just some innocent fun.
How easily my mind conjures the smells we always associate with the carnival, hotdogs and fried dough, among them. How easily we slip back to those summer nights of our youth, how we yearn for them and the innocence of the time.
Sadly it seems these throwbacks to the days of our youth are slowly fading away. The life cycle of this particular oddity ending. Rising costs and failing interest adding to their demise.
Still I like to reminisce about this bit of Americana, and our innocence.
About the Creator
Katie
Really just an amateur trying my hand at this.
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis5 days ago in Humans
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