I used to escape to the perfect place as a kid.
We had a small pasture beside our yard that was full of tall grass except for the very center where a large oak tree stood. We moved away from there when I was 12 and I don’t know if the tree was as large as it felt to me at the time.
But I’d push open or climb over the old gate, enter that field, and as soon as my feet landed on the other side I was in my own world.
The oak tree was many things under that canopy of limbs and leaves. Sometimes it was a far away world with woodland people so connected to nature they could make the grass grow or speak to the animals. Other times it was the home base of a dangerous mission– one that only I could complete. Sometimes it was a fairy sanctuary.
Sometimes when it was raining I’d go outside to the tree. The rain fell through the leaves on its way down, turning into a light mist and I’d lay across a branch that swooped close to the ground. It curved in just the right way for me to lay in the crook of it and I’d stare at the canopy above me. The droplets of rain would cover my face and make a tink tink tink sound as they hit the rain jacket I wore. I was in heaven.
Sometimes I think about those moments and how in my 30s I finally understand that it isn’t a bad thing to hold onto the kid we used to be. It’s okay to find wonder and magic in the ordinary around us.
I enjoy creating spaces without set expectations. Sort of like walking into that pasture as a kid and having the freedom to make it anything that I wanted. It’s why around here, on this blog, I liken it to that oak tree– limbs and branches of the many aspects of my life and thoughts– shared with you. Story snippets of my latest hero or heroine, dirt under the nails updates about my work-in-project garden, the latest books I’ve been obsessing over, or just the messy life that I’m so grateful to have.
Do you have a place from your childhood that was more than it seemed– a magical place that’s stayed with you?
~ Adria
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