Houses of joy

THROUGH THE BRIGHT CLEAR EYES of childhood, a glimpse of a magical village square, where all the turreted houses are en fête, with their pennants and balloons waving cheerily in the glowing golden air. For here, where the spirit of wonder is still alive, every day feels like a new garden to explore, a new hill to climb, a maze of mysteries to be uncovered.  

If you are still as free as the wind, hop skip and jump your way along the curving paths, smell the flowers, try to catch the balloons and see what you will find in the colourful pavilions on top of all the much-too-steep hills. And plumb too, if you will, the mystery of the over-high arched hedges behind the houses. This is a world where nothing is yet predictable, where anything is possible. It is the world we live in, seen through still unclouded eyes.