The Golden Seed Grove Of Lemuria

"Our Kingdom in The Wood"
by Nicola Warwick

copyright (c) Nicola Warwick 2001

I've been thinking about trees and racking my brain for a specific tree that has been important in my life. And I can't find one. I've never really been a tree person although I did briefly contemplate tree hugging after reading about Sark's close encounters with tree bark. But it was simply a fleeting contemplation and nothing came of it.

I do have a whole forest of trees in my background. Well, not a forest as such - more like a wood but when you're 8 it seems like a forest. It was located at the back of our house and off to the left. A field lay between me and the wood. We could get to the wood a few different ways. Nipping over the fence at the back of the house, across the field and then down the slippery and very muddy slope into the wood. If the neighbours who lived in the corner of the avenue were out we could take a short cut through their gardens and into the wood through one of their rickety wooden gates. Or you could be really boring and walk all the way round on the road, up Starling Road and in through the "front door" of the wood. Either way it was quite a dark little wood. And talk of bogey men at school kept us on edge and we took pleasure in making each other jump and shriek a lot. There was a den in the wood, not built by us but we would inspect it every time we visited.

We spent quite a lot of time in the wood. There was a lot to explore and it was our own little kingdom but you never went there alone. Occasionally I would nip through the wood via the "front door" and cut up through a neighbour's back garden to get home but always with a backward glance, checking for shadows and listening out for snapping twigs. I generally arrived home breathless, huffing and puffing. But dashing through the wood was often preferable to walking the long way round and risking being mauled by the German Shepherd that kept guard at the entrance to the avenue and there was no getting away from him.

The nicest time was autumn when the bluebells were out in force and the whole of the floor of the wood was blue. Of course, then we used to pick bluebells and take them home. Now, they're an endangered species and you pluck them at your own risk.

The last time I drove past the wood it was all fenced off and I couldn't see a clear way in. I'm sure the local kids have their own secret ways in though and run amok as we used to.

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The Golden Seed Grove belongs to all those Lemurians who have planted here.