Wednesday, December 4, 2013

To What Was, Beruna

I have this spot in the garden. 

Where I like to go. 

It's very pretty. 

Hunter and I go there to think and get away from things. 

If you sit there long enough, the birds come back, and its very noisy. 

There's some grass next door Hunter likes to roll in. 

After a while, I wonder down the walk, and climb over the low fence at the end and join him.

Isn't he cute? We often wonder around my old hunting playing grounds.

Claws must be sharpened. 

Welcome to what was once Beruna. 

This was the Marshland.

Our rocks are still there.  

Some of our carvings still leave marks in the banks. 

The swimming hole is over grown with grass and weed. 

Yet more remains of what was. 

I used to spend hours here, trying to catch what we called Cocabilly (Cock-a-billy) fish. There was one big one we never caught, called Billy. 

Hunter sticks pretty close to me. 

Poor Hunter, the grass is very long now. 

Before Beruna we had a hut under this tree. And before that, we had a hut under it's friend, who fell down one storm. 

Beruna is of course, a place from Narnia, and when my sister and I were younger, our Beruna was a gigantic playground for us. We had a small slope called 'the rolling slope.' And a place where our 'thrones' were, we had a place to swim, to sit, to hide our tresure. We built a dam form rocks and clay. One of our cats was buried there by our neighbour, we spent hours plotting and planning there. We ate there, spent days there, when the other paddocks were enemy lands. 

We don't go to our small land of Beruna any more, its just a patch of grass with the road on one side, the creek on the other, with a small swamp in the middle.

It was fun being a kid. 

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