my first car, loud burbling transport
camper vans on the ferry to Mull
mini van in Bhutan
sailing boat seen from ferry Sydney Harbour
This is my first entry in Ailsa’s travel theme, perhaps a sign that life is settling down a little and can broaden my horizons. The first two are old photos I had scanned, fond memories of transport in days gone by. The more recent ones are clearly recognisable … but don’t worry …. the women carrying huge stacks of bracken were not trying to board the minibus!
This delicate blossom adorns the Angophora floribunda tree in the centre of our driveway. It is fragrant and rich in nectar, attracting bees, butterflies and moths.
My first memory is of standing in a cot in my parent’s home, holding onto the rail, and seeing my father open the door so that a chink of light came into the dark room. He was coming to check on me, since I was not a good sleeper and probably called out a lot at night! It is a good memory, I was about 18 months old, my mother suffered from depression and was pregnant with her second child, so it was my father who was able to offer comfort to a toddler.
I spent some years of my childhood living with my grandparents in the country, where I was in good health. Here are some photos of Canowindra, taken only this year on a rainy weekend.
approaching Canowindra on the Cowra road
I always love this country, I love the smell of the soil, the colours of the landscape, the shapes of the hills and the winding river, somehow my childhood life here instilled the love of this beautiful place! My pioneering ancestors lived here, their name and stories are engraved upon me too …. when I went “downtown” with my grandmother she stopped and spoke to nearly everyone, and most of them seemed to be her cousins.
The old Kinkara Tea advertisement has been refreshed lately
Along this little lane that leads off the main street of the town you come to the Swing Bridge that crosses the Belabula River. As a child I was fascinated by it, loving the feeling of the pedestrian bridge swaying under my feet as I daringly crossed and recrossed.
Canowindra’s Swing bridge over the Belabula
When I go back I always look at the house where I spent so many childhood years with my grandparents. The old Carob trees still line the road, planted as feed for the stock being driven past on their way to the abattoir. I heard those familiar sounds so very often, the bleating of sheep or lowing of cattle, the stockmen calling to their dogs as they rode slowly by. I stood at the house gates watching in wonder as the great mobs moved through, filling the road, sending up dust from the edges, as dogs worked to keep them moving or pushed them to one side to allow a vehicle to pass.
My grandparent’s home in Rodd Street Canowindra, where I lived for many years
In the fifties, when I lived in this house there were hedges to keep the dust out, and old fashioned pencil pines , and beds of bulbs. It looks bare to me now, but I am so glad it is still there, and out the back so are many of the fruit trees I used to climb. Every time we go to Canowindra I am revisiting my childhood and rediscovering who I am.
What about you? What are your earliest memories? What was important to you? Visit http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/12/08/daily-prompt-childhood-revisited/ to read more, or submit your own post!
heartfelt images 