I suppose it could be but I prefer now to walk along the beach looking at the sunlight on the sea or a fiery sunset, trying to find the right words to describe what I'm seeing.
My father told me late in life that he still felt the same inside as when he was young, and I can understand what he meant. It's the outer world which seems to change, not the essence of who we are. We add to it from our adventures in life.
And I still love holidays, the break from routine in the summer. It's important for a writer to be able to access those memories, recapture the dreams, the family holidays we had in Cornwall. A small hotel, paddling in the sea, a bag of flags from the beach shop to put on the sandcastle, and Mum keeping the few shells I had found safe in her handbag for later.
Is the child in me still there? I think she is even though I don't now want a bucket and spade. My imagination has taken me beyond those castles to another where an Elizabethan Earl lives, and a Queen whose time it is, my next story.
What do you enjoy most about the summer? Is the child in you still there?