Monday, 13 January 2020

The Point, The Place and (Pyjamas)

Tunbridge Wells/24/12/2019

How to do it?

Take a point.


Or a place.

The woods.

Ok, when?

About, early sixties.

Well, there you go – that’s the point.

The Woods, early sixties?


It’s a bit vague.

Sharpen it.

Ok, Willersley Woods, early sixties – this is the time, this is the place. It’s summer, but it’s not hot; the trees are many, the leaves more so and the direct sunlight can only touch the edges. Inside the ground is still wet, in patches, from last week’s rain. Midges hover over the puddles.

Most people walk on the edges, but here there are two children. They are not frightened – these are their woods; they come here most days.

Sometimes by foot.

Today on bikes.

Yet even they have never been to this part of the woods before and they are about to be surprised.

At first they think it is an animal, but it doesn’t move so they go closer.

It’s a tree; a silver birch. But it has grown like an animal.

Up a little, then it changed its mind and grew along before finally deciding again and reaching upwards.

The children leave their bikes and mount the beast.

And ride away.

No comments: