Most of our childhood memories are unique to us, even siblings will see the same experience differently, or remember different things for different reasons. But in among all of that I think there are some childhood experiences and memories that are a sort of universal constant. The precise details may differ, the location, who you were with, whether it was raining, or what happened next. But I’d hazard a guess that every one of us can remember swinging, or running til you thought you’d burst, or, just for example, rolling down a hill.
The smell of the grass crushed under your elbows, the moment when you figured out how to tuck yourself together tightly so that you rolled down rather than round and round in circles, that funny sort of flying feeling when the momentum starts to build and you turn faster and faster and faster, and the comfort of finally coming to a stop and gazing up at the sky while the world whirls around you; waiting for your sense of direction and a little bit of balance to come back together so that you can climb straight up to the top and do it all over again.
Kitty hasn’t exactly mastered rolling just yet, I don’t think she’s realised that she has to lie down and she spends a bit too much time sat up to get that proper dizzying spin going. But there’s no hurry, she’ll figure it out in her own time, and if childhood is for nothing else, it is for finding your way to things by a good deal of grass-stained trial and error!