It was a beautiful summers evening over looking St Michaels mount in Cornwall. A wonderful sunset of staggered, puffy clouds, and rich colours hung over the island as my family and I played games and drank beer in the garden of the cottage next to the sea. My youngest cousin Harriet, began to show an interest in a bowl of olives being passed around. Inquisitively, she asked questions.

Could a tree grow from the stones, if she planted one?

She laid them out on the picnic bench and carefully chose the one to plant. Into the lawn it went. She then skipped off to play with her sister and talk about the Power Puff girls. I wandered down to the shore to photograph the ocean with Rich. The evening continued, as the solitary olive stone settled in.

On another occasion, on a stony beach in Jersey, Harriet and Ellie decided to collect shells and I was to help glue them onto pebbles, to decorate with paint and glitter in order for them to take to school to show the teacher. Harriet stubbornly decided she was only to collect the small yellow shells. Without thinking, she began to refer to these shells as sweetcorns. The youngest and tiniest member of the family stood with a pouch full of yellow shells overflowing from her top and ordered everyone to hunt for sweetcorns. Within minutes, six grown adults were foraging the coastline. Shoes got wet, Aunty Carol dropped her camera in the sea, but after an hour, the finest collection of sweetcorns emerged for the craft lesson at home. The gluing of the sweetcorns to the pebbles proved to be somewhat fiddly for Harriet, but the painting of pebbles with big purple splodges in the shape of starfish and octopi was definitely a winner.

The imagination of children is infinite, fascinating and no boundaries tie it down. They refuse rationality for fantasy, as endless possibilities over flow from their minds. The big world confronts them but the reality lid is yet to be developed as their uncomplicated minds allow thoughts and dreams to wind and grow, unhindered by society, rules and correctness. It is this unroofed melting pot, and carefree view that carries through into creative people. They never stop searching, believing and make believing.

But why is it that we pamper to the simplistic level of children and their fanciful, blind ideas? Partly to entertain and amuse them, granted; but if we are honest, its because as adults, deep down, we envy the naivety and security that childhood brought. We try our best to see exactly how they see and experience, because once we used to see the world in this way too. We miss it in our grown up chaos and its something for most that will never, ever return.

And what of Harriets olive tree?

Did it grow on the blustery and changeable Cornish coast?

Of course it did.

It grew to the heavens and was filled with wonder, magic and adventure.