The land is caged like a beast. It was dug up to lay pipes and now it is convalescent.
Before the wounding it was meddled with by man, regularly trimmed to keep it in line.
Now nature returns with unexpected surprises: a wealth of plants grow tall within the
confines of the temporary fence. Before, where short grass lay like a carpet, various
“weeds” grow in different varieties, blooming into a spectrum of colours.
Across the path a child sits on a swing and stares with a sad look in his eye,
imagining the possibilities of exploration denied. He thinks of the bugs and worms
he might have tried to grasp while deep within a ladybird climbs to where the boy
can only dream and tips her hat to the cabbage white and the earwig. From the
new heights she wonders how she managed before and decides to spend her life in
search of such havens of wonder as dandelion seeds float by.
Or so the boy sees in his mind as he leaves the swing’s seat to walk home for tea.
This evening, before bed, he will ask his father to read to him about Scott or Drake
or Columbus and he will dream of travels abroad and talking with Indians. Or,
perhaps, after staring at the moon, he will dream a journey into space and making
first contact.
Or maybe he’ll just return as a bug to that unruly strip of land that first started his
brain a-thinking.
Before the wounding it was meddled with by man, regularly trimmed to keep it in line.
Now nature returns with unexpected surprises: a wealth of plants grow tall within the
confines of the temporary fence. Before, where short grass lay like a carpet, various
“weeds” grow in different varieties, blooming into a spectrum of colours.
Across the path a child sits on a swing and stares with a sad look in his eye,
imagining the possibilities of exploration denied. He thinks of the bugs and worms
he might have tried to grasp while deep within a ladybird climbs to where the boy
can only dream and tips her hat to the cabbage white and the earwig. From the
new heights she wonders how she managed before and decides to spend her life in
search of such havens of wonder as dandelion seeds float by.
Or so the boy sees in his mind as he leaves the swing’s seat to walk home for tea.
This evening, before bed, he will ask his father to read to him about Scott or Drake
or Columbus and he will dream of travels abroad and talking with Indians. Or,
perhaps, after staring at the moon, he will dream a journey into space and making
first contact.
Or maybe he’ll just return as a bug to that unruly strip of land that first started his
brain a-thinking.
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