Transported to a bygone time? Time travel? A walk down memory lane?

Flipping through a book, I was caught by a clump of daisies. Beautiful in white frills and golden faces.

Amazing how a whiff, a taste, a phrase or a picture can remind one of half buried memories, forgotten times.

I was amongst a group of excited girls, ready for our weekly Science Workshop outing. We stood ready with our journals, empty glass jars, compasses and butterfly nets. The teacher in charge was our all time favourite, Georgina Goss. She carried her own standard equipment. A first-aid box in readiness of minor accidents. A large key with a hole, used deftly to press on bee stings and remove them without a hassle. I recalled my very own experience of the painful procedure, trying not to bawl my eyes out. Teacher assuring me of my bravery made the pain bearable.

Our path was down a flight of steps, past the sports ground into a flower laden field. The steps were wide and stretched way down to a road that marked the school boundary.

Being perennials, the daisies grew year after year, promising students, onlookers endless joy. Among these flowers, punctuated by other seasonal flowers and grasses, abounded bees, bugs and butterflies of every hue and size. It’s disheartening that many of both insect and plant species are already extinct.

Each one of us had a mission to fulfil, with occasional pauses when teacher filled in brief knowhows. The studious ones quickly took down points, while the lazy ones, me included, just waited to copy from them when required.

“Alma, stop dreaming!” Teacher’s voice would recall me to the moment. She’ll never know I never did stop, till date.

Butterflies were caught without damaging wings. The gutsy girls impaled beetles and bugs on compasses, making others shudder. All specimens went into labelled bottles. The less adventurous girls just pressed leaves, flowers and grasses.

Soon we would take a break before returning to class. Teacher gave out biscuits, while we regaled her with questions. She would patiently reply, while examining our wares.

Their excited chatter fades as I turn to the book lying limp in my hands.