There are few images that have, since I was young, pushed my heartbeat just for considering them. One has a spot on the map. Thalassophobia. Pertaining web-found pictures below. I figure I can count myself lucky in that growing up, I didn't have any powerful conscious fears. No horrible occurrences or losses. As far as I can say, most of it was pretty idyllic. Well-loved, secure and quiet child, creeks and forts in the woods.
Read MoreWhen my nephew began to crawl, he would come to me. Everyone else propped him up on their hips where he would float around in standard fashion, giggling or crying according to the standard elements. But he could count on me to lift and place him high on my shoulders where he could survey the area with a superior view. “A breathing dirigible for laughing and wailing…”
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