Thursday, 15 December 2016

Who we really are

I went back to the place of my birth and where I lived for the first nine years of my life before becoming who I am. It has all changed; those fields once haunts of runaway boys set on adventure are now full of houses.

The little stream and pond where frogs spawn was gathered in glass jars to watch tadpoles change into frogs is gone too but the pine wood is still there still whispering its secrets to those few that care. It is there in its silence us kids found three little stone gravestones sprinkled with pine needles just recording names and the year of death.

These were the resting places of the Manor House dogs who buried with love and care are remembered still but just by me. How eager we were then to grow up and see the world but in the end when we look back we can see who we really are.

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  1. We and the world hurry by, not realizing what we needed was there all along.

  2. Beautiful, wistful piece, Old Egg! It is indeed interesting that when we are young we can't wait until we are old enough to leave home and venture out on our own to experience what the world has to offer, and when we are old we miss the simplicity of those childhood times and places and wish we could go home again.

  3. It's like a secret world, as much as a bygone world. Makes me think of the place of my childhood - not completely made over into something unrecognizable.

  4. It is so hard to go back to take a peek and discover that what was there is no more, or has been changed so much it is barely identifiable. The explorations of childhood are great memories to have.