Kids of any age have a hard time avoiding a fountain – I mean, there it is - just shooting water out, up and then down again – there are coins to be thrown in, wishes to be made, depending on the temperature – toes to be dipped in, maybe even an ankle. But these kids were on field trips. They had “responsible adults” counting and recounting them, keeping the ones with too much energy in line, warning them with stern looks and cautioning fingers. But in the end, the fountain must be heeded, the water must be felt, there is simply nothing else their childlike souls can do.
The first group of children walked up, ages 9-10, their eyes all cast upon the fountain transfixed by the rushing water, straining against the invisible boundaries that had been imposed by their teacher prior to unloading off the bus. A few could not help it – they just had to get closer – and with them, their parent chaperones that still had some wonderment left in their spirits. “We won’t get in” you could almost hear them tell themselves, we will just pop our fingers in the water for a moment. One parent organized his charges near a concrete block, fountain in the back, and took their toothy pictures, smiling from ear to ear. “That grown-up is better than our grown-up” you could see in the eyes of children who stayed in line.
The next group of children was smaller in numbers and maybe 11-12 years old, but deaf. This discussion was very different. The teacher was signing like crazy, with much sternness in her gestures – I don’t understand sign language but I knew exactly what she was saying “DO NOT get in that water, I MEAN IT – don’t test me on this – big trouble – no really I mean it” the children signing back to her, resigned “yes, we understand”, still turning their heads back to stare at the water, then back at the teacher, then back at the water. Once they had finished eating their sack lunches on the benches near the grass – they found a way to take their trash, to the can closest to the fountain – in the end they were allowed to place their hands in the stream of water shooting out from the edges into the middle. Then, quickly moved away, and on to the next phase of the field trip.
Next – my personal favorite – the little girl about 8 years old, small with a cute “page boy” haircut, clothes - bathed in glitter and flare (you know this girl must have a name like Chloe or Lucy). She approaches the fountain with her hip slightly cocked to one side, and then, fully in the moment, she puffs out her chest,tilts her head up and shakes it abit, and takes her arms slowly up and out conducting a symphony of water – bright eyes, performing, knowing that people may be watching her, and "hamming it up" for their benefit – This is the type of child that is always “on” and auditioning to be discovered – by who, she doesn’t even know. After a while she draws her awkward, bigger, side kick friend into the dance – and they both move with the fountain of music.
I am slightly surprised by the children that finally succumb to the siren call of the water. It’s teenagers – 14 and 15 years olds - 6 girls and 3 boys (of course there is one boy that is cuter then the other two, and the girls are doing what girls that age do – preening and competing for the attention of that boy) so the braver of the girls starts slowly, flirting with the water and the boy, getting closer, retreating, going in a little farther, getting a little wetter, until there is nothing left to do but go “all in” and with that she starts on one side of the fountain and runs with full joy, and astonishment at what she is doing from one side of the rushing water to the other side – drenched, grinning, a trail blazer – and with that the spell is broken – the entire teenage brigade must follow her through.
- I sit on the sidelines, enjoying the show – clapping ovations for the children who are taking the plunge – completely content with my front row seat to the water show.
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