There I was walking with my youngest son Maarten, and it was a slightly cloudy day with the wind hissing through the many leaves in the trees surrounding us right and left along the path we were pursuing together.
Interesting sound, though it didn't quite sound like what one would expect wind through trees should sound like.
"Suppose you are sleeping," I asked him, "and you suddenly wake up in the dark not knowing where you are?"
"You wake up and hear this sound," and I pointed to the many leaves in the trees hissing and swaying, "would you know what kind of sound it was?"
"Could be a flock of locusts, or a bunch of waves crashing down on the beach, or clouds of dust scraping the dry asphalt, or anything else for that matter."
After less than a split second of rumination, Maarten turned to me and said innocently, "sounds like just a bunch of leaves to me..."
I realized then and there that it would take several more years before my son would mature enough to appreciate the nonsense of philosophy that distracts my mind from the messed up reality on a daily basis.