"Look"

I've been meaning to put up a post for awhile now, but have been hustling and bustling through the last couple of weeks of my semester (not to mention) procrastinating more than usual apart from doing a fair bit of 'real' work. So the essays that I've been typing out need some more work and editing before I can put them up.
For now, I'm putting up the following, which is something that I wrote a couple of years ago for a rather unusual Anthropology class that I took.
The incident 'happened' somewhere inbetween, in some time-space continuum, when I was in a different country...

When I was about 5 or 6 years old I had wandered out of the class once. The teacher had turned her back for an instant to write on the blackboard and I had with a rather dazed expression on my face simply trotted out of the class. I had for some reasons (or maybe none), very badly wanted to see the green hills covered with the rising mist of the early spring rains. And so I had wandered out. I don’t remember whether I had ever previously felt the inclination to do something similar – I don’t even remember whether I had known that walking out of the class was something that was ‘not done’, I don’t quite remember whether the notion was somehow somewhere rooted in my subconscious mind that it was indeed something that children did not do – otherwise why would I have waited until the teacher’s back was turned?
But I did walk out.
I went on my solitary ‘strike’.
I wanted to see the hills. I had felt musty inside the classroom and so I had walked out. I plodded through the corridor, took a left turn and walked straight out of the glass doors. And then I crossed the playground and stood in the middle of the field with the sun dancing around in bands, the wind streaming down my back, and the green hills in the front. It could not have been more than a minute or two but I still remember the intense feeling of ‘nothing’ and ‘everything’ sweeping through me. The next thing I heard was the sound of fast falling footsteps and my slightly harried teacher looking at me from above.
“What are you doing here?” She asked me, and a little icily too.
I looked back at her and answered, “Looking. Look.”
So saying I pointed towards the hills and I can swear I saw a light in her eyes which chased across her face and soon enough she was smiling down at me while she gently tucked my fingers into hers and said, “Yes, I see…” We walked back then to the classroom while she whispered to me, “But don’t walk out of the classroom again…”