My
early childhood memories come from the age of seven. When the family
decided to up sticks moving from Dudley an industrial Black country
town to Kingswinford. Kingswinford, a small village on the outskirts
of the towns, Wolverhampton, Stourbridge and Dudley. It meant that
you had the best of both. Rural and town life style. Legend had it
that Kingswinford got its name from centuries ago, when pigs were
driven through the village with a stick. Today Kingswinford has
become a small town.
Grandfathers
Garage business at Tipton, selling car accessories and sports
products had become prosperous over the years so grandfather could
afford to buy a house for my parents, himself and grandmother, in
Kingswinford built on a small estate. Surrounded by woods. It was a
delight as a small child to listen to the birds singing a welcome
song in the trees outside my bedroom window early mornings.
The
love of nature and its natural habitat, being there to explore on my
doorstep. Became more interesting than my picture books and dolls. To
walk through woodland behind the houses, watching red squirrels
perform with acorn nuts high in the tree tops, with many a clear sky
become paradise. Has Learnt new experiences about life and nature.
One
day I saw a white egg lying in the lush green grass by the oak trees.
It wasn’t a bird’s egg, in size it looked like an egg you
would by in the supermarket. Slightly smaller in size, white in
colour I decided to leave it be. Later to find out that the egg
belonged to a grass snake who had abandoned it to move on elsewhere.
Another time a neighbour of grandfathers Mrs Jones had worked herself
up into a state of hysterics, finding a grass snake crawling around
her garage door. Grandfather just picked up the snake with a garden
fork placing it back in its natural habitat the woods. The snake was
probably more afraid than Mrs Jones.
Life
progressed unfortunately the builders decided to build more houses so
that the woods vanished from view. With this so did the wild life,
although the birds still sang their sweet song. I found I could still
sit on the odd upturned log watching and waiting learning to accept
change, my wonderful woodland playground going. I made friends with
other children from the other houses, on the estate. We would collect
horse chestnuts from one of the trees left on the estate. Watch white
cabbage butterflies flutter by. There were many sunny days spent
black berry picking to make homemade jam. Horse rides at a local
farm.
I
still remember the odd ladybird settling on my finger with its red
coat and black spots. Glistening spider webs, black oily bugs you
would find in what open grassland there was left. That you would
explore with a stick at a place called Dawley Brook. Father and
Mother would take a drive out into the country weekends. A few miles
away from where we lived quite often in the country lanes at night
rabbits would dart into the road to sit in the glare of the car head
lights before continuing their journey back to their burrows. If you
were lucky you would see a badger with her cubs. The odd fox would
also slink by. Father always drove slowly in the lanes rather than
hit any of these creatures of the wild. An owl could also be heard
hooting.
Today
in schools there are nature field trips for youngsters from the
towns, to explore and learn about nature. Has a child growing up in
the nineteen sixties era, it was interesting to explore this at my
own pace? To remember, these experiences some sixty years later after
writing a story about a fox. While working in Twickenham South London
some years back as a carer, I saw a lobster in a traditional wet fish
shop, it was alive in a container on show for all to see. It was a
sight with its pink skin and claws. An experience to watch at close
range and of course for the shop to sell. Lobster being a luxury
boiled and served up in most top restaurants.
I
have let my thoughts and feelings get the better of me? Reliving my
childhood memories of wild life and a different life style. So much
has changed there is still the odd Zoo, to view animals. Although
different from their natural habitat, they are loved by the public
and cared for.
We
need open spaces for nature to survive and prosper. Open markets have
gone where people could meet and talk. A lot of open markets were, a
pleasure to walk around, now they have become smaller concrete
jungles. This creates a narrower view of life. We lose out on seeing
wild life. At present where live in the West Midlands often I watch
the odd grey squirrel in the trees. Red squirrels aren’t seen
that often. You don’t hear talk of snakes, although the odd fox
may venture out into suburbia to search through the odd dustbin. A
cry for natural areas, nature needs to be left alone to develop at
its own pace, to survive. Books can educate the mind and the
internet; live experiences are still more effective and rewarding to
capture.
Writing
is rewarding and pleasurable particularly early mornings with the
sounds of the birds and dusk when all is still. Work has appeared
briefly in magazines, parts of books regarding poetry and prose. Has
yet it’s an enjoyable pastime. Although a member of the Authors
licensing Collecting Society, I have never received more than £200
pounds for my work in royalties or any writing competition. I still
hope to make progress nature is such an interesting subject to write
about particularly animals talking of which I will soon be walking my
neighbours Jack Russel, who loves to roll in the damp green grass?
Maybe he gets the call of the wild? Even domestic pets can revert
back to what their ancestors did years ago. Hence a dog who rolls in
the muddy grass and chases squirrels. All a part of life and natures
instinct. Time and patience understanding of all aspects of nature,
needs to become a part of the learning process, not just profit in
bricks and mortar.
