Thursday, 20 October 2011

My Backyard

My backyard did not end at the rusty three wire fence at the bottom of the garden. That was merely the portal to my magical world so that I could leave the confines of home with a troublesome brother, parental stricture and the mundane life of ordinary average people that association with would stunt my growth and development.

So I slipped away between that fence's wire strands to set foot in a land of every wonder and delight. The clucking of the hens and the order of my father’s vegetable garden were gone and I like Livingstone before me could view a land of deepest mystery and untold delights.

The grass was high (for me that is) and I strode my small steps across that meadow with haymaking still far off and observed by unseen rabbits and probably a fox cross that his stalking would come to nothing as I reached the woodland not a hundred yards from home.

If the meadow was the sea through which I sailed, my entry into a fantastic wood filled with tall trees and hazel bushes and the calls of birds warning of my approach were to me a jungle in Africa where my eyes were peeled for dangers underfoot and as well heeding the scampering of squirrels in the trees chirping their disgust that this explorer should invade their territory.

The occasional clearing would be invaded with brambles to snare my clothes as I ploughed my way through this jungle realm and acute hearing would alert me to the tinkle of a water course where my parched lips could find relief in the pristine stream that wound its way through this new found paradise.

A flash of blue darts past my eyes and a kingfisher flees from my approach as the moist ground now sucks at my feet and there looking down I spy the disappearing tail of a grass snake disturbed in its hunt for food.

I kneel down on the banks of the stream and scoop up a welcome draught of fresh water in my hands to cool my endeavours thus far. Near by is a fallen tree whose old trunk is now covered with moss that forms a right royal seat for the explorer who sit and waits, listening for the sound of the natives of that magical place.

All is silent even the wild creatures are stilled as they sense another presence yet still far off. I too strain my ears to hear that fearful sound now booming with frightful import sending all my fellow creatures fleeing for safety.

“Robin, its lunchtime!” Came the call.

14 comments:

  1. This is wonderful! You've painted such a vivid picture of a child explorer.Loved every word.

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  2. Reminds me of the Bridge to Terabithia. I love your eloquent sentences and vivid descriptions... a wonderful story here.

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  3. I had a place like that, too! Unfortunately, someone was always intruding. So well written!

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  4. a real backyard to be in,
    visual and lovely thinking.

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  5. Reminds me of my childhood in my own backyard. Lovely piece.

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  6. Oh the magic of a child's world. lovely story Robin.

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  7. It's always good to fight your way past the garden fence..builds for a big imagination..a gift..Jae

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  8. Perfect words for a perfect place. Very different to mine :-)

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  9. Luscious imagination, as neon and burgeoning as the African jungle where even the fearsome Motherbeast rules!

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  10. This is a lovely window into fun childhood memories. Sadly, I think fewer and fewer children get to have those kinds of experiences.

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  11. Delightful writing. I enjoyed seeing into "your looking glass." I, too, view that type of world as magical even as an adult.

    Please click here for my Sun. Scribblings
    -Gel

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  12. Beautifully written, I enjoyed every word :)

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  13. This is sooo beautiful and reminds me of my childhood! I called it adventuring back then when I would sneak off!

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  14. This is beautifully written. I enjoyed it very much and would like to read more about that boy.
    I may be biased but that could only be Aussie territory you are describing. I could smell the heat and the stillness.Tres impressed.

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