Drips! I often wonder at

I often wonder at my ability as a child to concentrate on the drops of water falling into my bath from the taps. I can so clearly remember watching the ripples as they moved out in expanding circles, the sound of the drips as they fell, watching the drips form on the ends of the taps. Yet now I can only concentrate long enough to have the brief recollection before my thoughts race on to something else.

Obviously I am not alone:

There once lived this naive yet sweetly innocent young boy. At the telling of this story he is sitting casually in the bathtub, the water up to his belly button, just about. In front of him at eye-level is the faucet, chrome and shiny. So that he can see his face reflected in it, though due to the distortion of the reflection his eyes are tightly squeezed together and his chin explodes downwards like an uneven trapezoid with sharp corners. Okay. The faucet is dripping, very slowly. Each drop is a slow motion ballet as the adhesion properties of water keep it stuck to the rim of metal. The drop of water grows and grows and then dips down with the gentle tug of gravity. Dips down, the drip. Gravity pulling against the adhesion properties of water molecules. Two types of attraction defined by nature. Working together, working against one another.

from Random Thoughts