Where my world began

The habitual comforting sight of the forest glade quickens our heart beats as we enter in our customary disorderly fashion. A tremor of excitement runs through our modest congregation, each individual relishing the thought of escaping from the unbearable dullness hanging so menacingly in the static summer air. This is the centre of our world; a place of great beauty and abundance, a place brimming with diversions, a place of bliss, a place of revelry.

This is our sanctuary, our realm, our haven.

Thin rays of hindered sunlight form diaphanous columns, acting as both spotlights and support systems to the cavernous foliage above. Gargantuan trees tower, alarming yet protective, their ancient bark twisted into an assembly of tempestuous, companionable and melancholy faces. An ocean of cushiony mosses and aesthetic ferns cloak the forest floor like lush blankets. The sweet chirping of robins, humming of insects, the wind ruffling leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl blend together to create a melodious and soothing melody.   

Delicate lilies daintily float upon a pool of shimmering water; home to a multitude of intriguing aquatic creatures.  Schools of brightly colored fish flit about in circles as we admire them for hours, entranced by their alien artistry. As the dreamy movement of the sun indicates early afternoon, the intense competition of who can collect the most outrageous frog or the greatest number of snails begins. We search high and low, each scrutinizing every nook and cranny in earnest, fighting for the most inhabited logs, climbing perilous trees, squeezing into minuscule holes; our ambitious nature our Achilles heel. The winner receives the ultimate prize: the choice of today’s game.

Endless rounds of tag, hide and seek, manhunt, cops and robbers and sardines become increasingly zealous as the afternoon progresses. As cuts and bruises are accumulated, tension increases and egos reveal themselves. Finally, with an insurmountable explosion of energy, the last game comes to an end and we are left breathless and content.

Overwhelmed with exhaustion, we soon fall asleep in the lush grass; the distinct aroma of damp greenery and humid mud flooding our nostrils. A deep and restful sleep overtakes me whilst dreams of woodland sprites swirl through my mind. Minute fairy creatures sparkle brilliantly as they dart about through the air, dancing at dizzying speeds, inviting me to join them.          

As all precious times do, our splendid day comes to an end all too soon. One by one we depart, trailing our feet behind in protest as we follow our mothers’ increasingly inpatient calls. These partings are always tinged with a mixture of sadness and contentment: we must leave, but we all know that we can always come back.