Remembering the past

We went for a walk today, despite the humidity that made the ambient temperature feel as though it was 10 degrees hotter than the thermometer dictated.

This was a journey of discovery for both of us. She had not been down this path for many years. In fact, some parts of the path were only bush when she last remembered coming this way. She recounted adventures lived as a very young child, coming to this place, and sitting on the rocks to stare across the gently lapping waves toward one of the distant isles, and she told stories of her brother who himself confesses to not having any memory of their time in this part of the world.

As our pedestrian journey continued, she told me of the day when her brother stood atop one of the survey markers that now stands in the midst of a beautifullly manicured park, dressed in his Sunday best on the day he received his first communion, so that she could take his picture. I think she still can find that print, so many years ago, and intends to do so when he comes to visit in a few weeks' time.

She took me to the spot where the family home once stood, and described in some detail the structure of the wooden shelter in which their family had lived. What stories were told within those walls! What adventures unfolded, and what thoughts must have run through the minds of those old enough to know the difference! The house is long gone now, and there is no evidence that it ever was. Where once there were wooden walls and floor boards, there is now only the rock on which they were built, surrounded by grass and asphalt. A garden still stands to the west, but where there once was a fish pond, there is nothing but a grassy field.

How her mother loved to walk around that pond, and in the surrounding fields! How the children loved to roll down the gentle embankments, which in the mind of children were veritable mountains!

There are still lots of people in that spot, but very few of the ones who tread these grounds today would have any recollection of the life that came before. If only the ground could tell its tale ... I wonder if any would listen.