This is a short memoir about one of my earliest memories...

Three years old. A very young age, yet still a fascinating one. The world is new but so many important events have already taken place. Childish ambition develops as the fearfulness of infancy dissipates. I was on the cusp of this myself when I first ventured from home.
A weekend trip with my grandfather to the swamp. Now aday maybe not the most exciting of adventures, however, this memory burns fresh in my mind as if it was yesterday. There was a youthful allure of the unknown. The swamp in all its dark and brooding glory stood as a symbol for the beginning of adventure. A place to journey to experiences never before had. My grandfather buckled me into my car seat and off we were, driving at a fast pace away from normality.
The swamp was dark. I remember that vividly, even in the day it was as if night. Thick voluminous branches created a carpeted ceiling upon which I gazed. Dark greens, browns, siennas, greys, and burnt yellows assuaged my vision. My eyes were accustomed to the soft pinks and yellows and blues of my bedroom. These bold yet brooding colors were unknown. The house was small and insignificant, but to a toddler it held many secrets. My room was dim, oil lamps served as the only light fixtures in the room. Wooden floors and wooden ceilings. A genuine log cabin, swamp hut. My room was upstairs. I would only stay there for two nights. Two very short nights and three very long days.
Although the exact details of what I did there have faded with time I do remember my first time riding in a boat. An airboat I believe it was. That boat was loud, yet the feeling of the wind buffeting my face as we flew through the water seemed to silence everything. My grandfather loved knowing that I enjoyed the same things he did. Discovering my affinity for the swamp and the boats fueled his elation.
As we churned through the swamp trees and palmettos whisked past. The colors that had once seemed foreign were now familiar and kindled a peaceful atmosphere as they blurred together. We stopped suddenly. In an airboat there truly is no subtle motion. It’s sudden and jolting but I loved it. We came to a stop almost as fast as we had started and paused to take in the scenery. It was much of the same: greens and browns, trees and leaves, mud and sticks. Murky water swirled around the boat heading downstream. A peaceful lapping noise was the only sound to impede the silence. As I took in the scenery I noticed its bright eyes looking back at me. In the water was a pair of two bright, yet beady eyes. They were yellow with dark slits. A reptilian snout poked slightly out of the water. Two nostrils gently dilated and contracted as the creature inhaled and exhaled. It was my first encounter with an alligator. Although frightening creatures, alligators command a certain respect. Their prescience in itself is commanding. They exude an air of confidence unmatched by other creatures. I was able to realize this at the age of three.
As abruptly as we stopped, we continued moving again. We ventured back to the house and a warm meal. I ate my fill, hungry after a day in the swamp. At night I remember the briefness of bedtime as I drifted into a deep slumber. I had no trouble entering the land of dreams while at the swamp.
There stands a famous saying that all good things must come to an end. I was too young to realize then that I felt that way upon departure, however, I realize now what a lasting impact the swamp left. Isn’t it funny how certain memories stick with you decades past? Even though it may be an insignificant memory, it still stands strong in my mind as one of my earliest recollections. The swamp was a landmark in my memory that marked the birth of adventure in my young heart.