There was always a song playing in the days of our youth, yet most of us were appropriately too busy dancing to it. But for me, there were moments when I stopped and listened. Something told me that these experiences were worth remembering. I sensed the inherent magic of that freedom, when the pursuit of joy ruled my days. But then the clock would always start again. Time passed, kittens grew, apples fell and ripened on the ground. The sleeping lamb becomes a sheep and slowly awakens, waiting for us with a cup of grown up tea.