It’s funny how your perspective changes over your life time. I used to ride this carousel on the weekends when I was a girl. My father would let me view the world from his shoulders while we walked through the nearby gardens. He always seemed so tall to me. I felt like a bird peering down at the world from my safe and mobile tower. The carousel itself was utterly magical. It only went in circles, but to me, it felt like I was orbiting the universe in a brightly colored horse-drawn spaceship. (My imagination was never less than vivid.) In my last visit to Paris, I unintentionally walked by this carousel. It was different of course, older, slightly less grande–but instantly, I knew the place I had stumbled upon.
I’ve heard that as you age, your memory plays tricks on you. You think things that happened didn’t, and things that did are sometimes forgotten. I stood there for a moment, watching young parents looking after their own small children as they traversed the universe on this now very old carousel. Before leaving, I decided that even though my father actually isn’t so tall now that I really think about it, this ride was no less magical than I had remembered.