If you want to realize exactly how narrow your field of vision has become as an adult, take a walk with an eight-year-old.
Recently, my daughter and I found ourselves navigating the steep, winding streets of Montmartre in Paris. It was pouring rain. As a 69-year-old dad who spent years hiking the Alps and scaling Kilimanjaro, I’m no stranger to walking in adverse conditions. My daily 5BX routine keeps me fit enough to handle the Parisian hills without missing a beat. But my survival strategy for rain is purely pragmatic: put your head down, dodge the deepest puddles, avoid the tourist umbrellas, and march forward.
My daughter, on the other hand, operates on a completely different frequency. She doesn't just walk; she observes.
Somewhere between the Place du Tertre and a rather steep set of cobblestone stairs, she tugged on my sleeve. "Dad, what are those heart shapes with an A on buildings?"
I stopped and looked at her. I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. I had been scanning the horizon for a dry cafe; she had been scanning the architecture.
"Come on," she insisted, with that distinct tone of third-grade exasperation. "You must have seen them, they are all over."
She pointed upward. High on the corner of a classic Haussmann-style building, right near the roofline, was a vibrant, spray-painted red heart with a bold 'A' stamped across it.
Once I saw the first one, the illusion broke. Later that evening, after finally retreating indoors, I applied a bit of my usual research rigor. It turns out those hearts are the signature of a prolific, well-known Parisian street artist who goes by the moniker "A2"—which stands for Amour et Anarchie (Love and Anarchy).
For the rest of our trip, those hearts were everywhere. Blue ones, red ones, small ones, massive ones. I had walked past dozens of them, completely oblivious, locked in my adult tunnel vision.
There is a distinct biological and psychological difference in how 61 years of life separates our perspectives. I look straight ahead to manage the logistics of our day. She looks up, down, and sideways, treating the city like an open graphic novel waiting to be read. It’s a humbling reminder that wisdom doesn't just flow downwards from parent to child. Sometimes, the most valuable lesson an older parent can learn is simply to follow a child's gaze.
Video Transcript:
"Dad, what are those heart shapes with an A on buildings?" We were in Paris, walking around Montmartre in pouring rain. And I had no idea what hearts she was talking about. "Come on, you must have seen them, they are all over." So she showed me the next one she spotted. A bright red heart with a big A over it, high up on the corner of a building. So I did a bit of research and found out those are the works of a well-known street artist who goes by A2. As in "Amour et anarchie", love and anarchy. After that, I started seeing them everywhere, in all variations of shape and color. As adults, we always walk looking straight ahead, and we miss many things that are unmissable to a child's curious eyes. What did you learn to see through the eyes of your kids? Let me know in the comments.