Inheritance of a Carousel

I wish I had a Carousel. It would be my thinking place. I would have it in a meadow next to a climbing tree. Or an epic rock formation meant for climbing. There would be a stream nearby. And it would be the most perfect place. Although, just a carousel would also be splendid.

I suppose when you go to amusement parks most people dont think of a carousel as being the ride they want to go on most. But thats always what I think. There is just something so elegant about them. The music, the horses, the intricate details, the mirrors along the centre. I feel so at peace and alive when I am on a carousel. And I just realized I inherited that. I used to think it was just one of those quirky things that developed. But then I got a card in the mail, the front was a gorgeous photo of a carousel. I was psyched. Then I opened it and read words depicting carousels being riden back to my great grandparents. And it hit, it was like a special family thing in some way. I was touched. I nearly forgot about the carousel horse we saw at the garden because the carousel wasnt done, and you knew I was elated just for that.

Its like looking at that carousel card ties me to people long passed or people far away. I feel like I can close my eyes and picture being on a carousel and you can do the same, and then its like we are both riding it in a place that is much calmer and safer and more perfect than reality.

I still very much so want a carousel. But perhaps I can settle for a thinking place where I can look at my carousel card. Because its not entirely the carousel I desire, its the feeling it brings that I want. That pure joy and excitement I get when I see one. The little butterflies I get with apprehension as I get to choose my horse. There is something precious about the childlike joy that some things bring. This is one of those things for me.