Visiting the place I grew up made me remember many things I thought I had long forgotten. I felt how my childhood memories are like strong roots, that keep providing me with the nourishment to keep growing and evolving. I tried to capture this feeling in this week’s sketch.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to visit my parents who live in the Swiss countryside. It was a beautiful, calm, hot summer day. Here a couple of pictures I shot that day.
Walking from the train station to my parents’ house I passed the small, artificial pond on which we used to test drive the boats we had built during the long, cold winter months.
Taking the rough rubble road to my right I remembered how I would zip down this path on my bike, looking forward to meet my secondary school buddies. This was 35years ago and still these old memories felt so fresh.
Further up the hill, past the old barn, some sheep were grazing in the shadow.
Crossing the bridge over the river “Luppmen” I stopped and looked down into the clear water. More memories came up: The cowboy movie we filmed in this woods, the trout we caught at this exact spot and later ate for dinner at home.
It was a great childhood.
Our memories are our roots
We don’t have roots like trees. And yet, walking up to my parents’ house made me realize, that as human beings our roots are our memories. Our memories tie us to places, to people, to a certain climate.
When we leave the place we grew up in, when we take a job in a country far away, we take these memories with us. But somehow they don’t provide the same comfort any longer. On the contrary, they keep reminding us of what we left behind.
Soon we will settle down, digging our roots deep into where we live, memory by memory. Hopefully these will be good memories, so that they can nourish and make you happy.