The boys' territory
It lay upslope from the outlying field, and it was from there that we first made our way in. It was delightfully inaccessible, and we had to fight our way through dense scrub, thick with that bush with the little purple flowers whose name I can never remember. It was fragrant, and scratchy, and combined with the sticky-grass it was the perfect defensive barrier. We made our way through though, of course, and then set about exploring.
Inside, the way was easier, with fewer of those bushes and more ferns. There were a number of wombat trails snaking through the area, so we had a ready-made network of roads. We followed one of them along the hillside, and eventually came upon one wombat's mini paradise. There was a little hillock under which he'd made his burrow, and we found both entrances. Next to the burrow was a little glen, full of lush green ferns and with a single tall tree-fern in the centre.
It was paradise for us, too, and we named it the boys' territory and vowed not to tell the girls about it. We'd found it, and it was our place. We were all energised with the excitement of exploration, of covering new ground. That feeling of finding a place that no-one else has ever seen. Naturally we wanted to keep it to ourselves, to maintain that feeling. We did keep it to ourselves, too, although strangely enough, after the initial excitement that day, we never went back there, never carried out any of our plans for improvements and cultivation.
I went back there a few times myself, at a later time, when the dynamic was different. I was by myself, I was older, and the others had moved away. I was drawn back by the memory of that initial rush of discovery, and by the beauty of that little glen, in amongst the mountain ash like a little verdant sanctuary. The wombat hole looked abandoned, and things seemed a little messier than before, a little less crisp and colourful. Perhaps the time of year was different, or perhaps I was different. I couldn't regain that sensation, that vision. But I could remember it, and smile to myself at realising that we had never told the girls about the place, and they'd never found it. It was still the boys' territory.
Inside, the way was easier, with fewer of those bushes and more ferns. There were a number of wombat trails snaking through the area, so we had a ready-made network of roads. We followed one of them along the hillside, and eventually came upon one wombat's mini paradise. There was a little hillock under which he'd made his burrow, and we found both entrances. Next to the burrow was a little glen, full of lush green ferns and with a single tall tree-fern in the centre.
It was paradise for us, too, and we named it the boys' territory and vowed not to tell the girls about it. We'd found it, and it was our place. We were all energised with the excitement of exploration, of covering new ground. That feeling of finding a place that no-one else has ever seen. Naturally we wanted to keep it to ourselves, to maintain that feeling. We did keep it to ourselves, too, although strangely enough, after the initial excitement that day, we never went back there, never carried out any of our plans for improvements and cultivation.
I went back there a few times myself, at a later time, when the dynamic was different. I was by myself, I was older, and the others had moved away. I was drawn back by the memory of that initial rush of discovery, and by the beauty of that little glen, in amongst the mountain ash like a little verdant sanctuary. The wombat hole looked abandoned, and things seemed a little messier than before, a little less crisp and colourful. Perhaps the time of year was different, or perhaps I was different. I couldn't regain that sensation, that vision. But I could remember it, and smile to myself at realising that we had never told the girls about the place, and they'd never found it. It was still the boys' territory.
posted by Nick | 3:28 pm
1 Comments:
Dude, you totally did find out about it - you were there when we discovered it. It's a shame you don't remember...
And yes, those brambles were awesome. Felix and I made some seriously extensive tunnels through them, and broke off more than a few thorns in our tender young flesh ;-).
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