Sunday, March 24, 2013

Journey's end


I long for childhood again, doubting my own sanity, when jar in hand and with nothing in my mind I would scamper across the fields of my youth to the river’s bank in that country I still call home so many thousand miles away as if it were yesterday. There standing in the sand, barefoot, wriggling my toes in the cold water I would fish for creatures of another time, tiddlers, sticklebacks and other unknown beings whose world I had invaded. As the muddy bottom stirred up it would be as a crystal ball first hiding then gradually revealing secrets as my life too was but a mystery to me. I have not forgotten those days when hopes and dreams, some fulfilled and some not, cast aside the utter joy of being, that for some reason I washed away like some wound never realising then knowing what was true happiness. I like so many others was in a hurry to get on to real living and not cursed as now with memories best forgotten. The young have places to go the old have nowhere to go but that does not stop us from rushing to the end of the line. Last year I went back to that river’s bank but it heeded me not, nor did the ancient trees which were still there weeping into the water. They didn’t see me as I was now disguised with age and they took more notice of the squealing barefoot children that had taken my place dozens of times over. The river wound on to the sea and me? I too wound my way on to journeys end as well.

10 comments:

  1. I can see the wriggling toes stirring up the muddy bottom and the clearing (revealing) like a crystal ball. I too played in a creek as a child and would enjoy visiting again. I'm sure I would receive and give the same reaction as you.

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  2. I know we get old and wish if naught but you,as I,are lucky in many ways. We have those dreams of yesteryear still living in our minds and we are able to dream and remember those awesome years of the sand between our toes...and write about it...nice post.

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  3. my life still is a mystery to me

    Cheers!
    JzB

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  4. Oh Old, I remember returning to Prague after 20+ years in exile and nothing felt like home any more. I suppose we all have to move on. Nicely written and thank you for bringing a memory back to me.

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  5. Great piece on memories and nostalgia.. and getting on. It felt very real, the burn and the tiddlers. Those of us who have country memories like this are lucky, I think. Nice Wordle.

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  6. I really like the bit digging into the sand and how it seems to contain so much of the mystery of the narrator's life. Wonderful!

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  7. A beautiful, reflective piece! I love this line:
    " The young have places to go the old have nowhere to go." I'm a grandma now and while my days seem to speed past, they are not as full as they once were.

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  8. Your words bring back memories to many of us. This is rich with images and feelings to be explored. Thank you,

    Elizabeth
    http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/

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  9. Excellent prose, old egg. Excellent visuals.

    Pamela

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  10. I remember railroad tracks and snow and dusty roads walked alone. And those were the good times. I don't ever want to go back.

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