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I had often thought as a boy, how simplisic life is .. there is unlike today; nothing like a child, who has a CHILDHOOD and not, as some would have it, taken away at the earliest opportunity ?
Suffice to say my daily walks, sometimes even when it was raining hard and there was a storm, with Zeus raging in the heavens dispensing lightning bolts, followed by the boom of thunder and the lightshow particularly or so it seemed to me, on a quarter moon.
Ocassionally occluded, by heavy cloud, which in retrospect made the effect of the lightning display, even more dramatic and reminded me I think, of some book that I had read, with pictures liken to my visual delight, made apparent cept of course for the disappointment that I seldom ever saw, the face of Zeus himself as pictured in my book, looking down from within the clouds ?
There was something about that wild, wind torn savage brutality, as the waves smashed against the rocks below.
The roar, followed by another beating upon the rock, the spray thrown up against, even the tallest headland, from a distance viewed by me. Feeling that same sensation, of passion of fury of rage, rippling through me and I don’t think that has ever left me.
Nature at its wildest at its most beautiful ? To laze amongst the long grass, or on short grass, nibbled short by cattle or rabbits, to stare up at fluffy clouds in soft blue skies and ? To dwell on what is pleasing to the thought ? Not female company nor pleasure sought ? Too young for such ideas, though I say not ideals ! Come on ! Within my childlike innocence, lets keep it real !
Hmm Enid Blyton, I have to say dear Enid you are indeed to blame for the horror of those ugly creatures ! Of what you may well wonder, do I refer to ? Poor Noddy and those wicked Goblins ! Illustrated with such horrible distorted faces, boils and glaring eyes the perfect example of everything to be despised ?
I have to admit, I did not and in fairness, ever give allowances for any of those ‘things’ being anything less than malevolent beings, mind you they were not alone ! Pixies, Piskies ? Cornish ? Hmm thinks I, munching upon my Cornish pasty and for those who do not know of such, let me tell you that pastry wrapped around meat and vegetables is a treat indeed !
Even moreso, when it is FRESHLY cooked, by someone, who I have to admire and give due credit to, COULD ACTUALLY create such an edible moment, of sheer pleasure in its consumption ! Ah yes, the aroma, from the oven when it is cooking, when iit is being removed from the oven placed upon the plate.
Many may imitate, but few seldom recreate such moments of bliss, such perfection ! But I digest oops I mean digress..
Laid back these things I ponder on and as children do, with imagination create scenarios of immeasurable dimensions that take me into places into adventures and and ... relentless, unforgiving and painted in so many colours upon my mind, that such to equal, would be nothing less than a rainbow, in all its entirety !
I think it was easy, that time of child innocence, to see things without the pain, the avarice and everything that goes with adulthood. Even then, the odd shadows of doubt, of the possibility, of someone not being as honest, as might at first appear, often dismissed, simply because as a child, you know nothing similar nor disimilar, to be able to make comparisons with or to ?
As childhood merged into adolsescence and the outside world ever more impinged upon your space, you started to see for the first time, the real shadows move. The beginnings of all, that makes up the world around you, inhabited by different cultures, religions, politics and a whole lot more, along with the realisation that the true horror, is found with those who will use anything, be it colour, creed, race and or sexuality to score points. To make others lives a misery, to enslave, to punish, to provoke and if they were luckier still, to become politicians.
Once into adulthood, the shadows were no longer shadows, distinct, all too real and sometimes frightening so, a time when the truth became all too clear, it is not us, who choose the path we lead, it is others who meddle in our lives, who want us to lead it the way they perceive is how it should be lived, or because they, are unable to lead fulfilled and happy lives themselves; see no reason why others should.
Maybe when sat upon that same rock, I dream of her returning ? Of sharing a child moment, when I had no cares, nothing except the surprised look upon my face at seeing her, of watching her, as she blew me a kiss ? Of dreams, of a deep desire, to want to slip away with her ? Of the joy of seeing something so beautiful, yet the sense of sadness, watching childhood and all its joys slip away, to nothing vanishing on the horizon ?
Hmm childhood, I have not forgotten, nor attempt to forget, nor am I persuaded to forget, for all I read, when I read my favourite stories, the essence of escapism, of magic, of the fairytale that once I loved, believed, breathed in and was forever etched upon my childhood. Despite what life threw at me, I never forgot. IF YOU believe, no one can ever take that from you.
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