I believe in Nessie I am old now. My bones are weak and my back stoops. When I look in the mirror, I see the child within hidden behind layers of saggy skin and deeply etched lines. My eyes are the same, ever blue and shining. As my body fails and weakness prevails, my eyes remain bright, the keepers of the truth. For these eyes have seen many a sight. They have watched the world change and bore witness to good and evil, sadness and joy. They remember my firsts, my middles and in betweens; childhood, school days, lovers, births, travels, adventures, misfortune and, sadly, death. As we age, we are told to grow up and this I did without question. I forgot Santa and the tooth fairy, fairies and bed monsters. I dismissed these tales as childish, stripped my imagination bare and packed my explorer’s mind away with forgotten dolls and games.