145. Childhood landscape
© Bruce Goodman 4 March 2014
Leonard had always boasted to his three kids about where he grew up as a child. It was way in the boonies, in the whop-whops, beyond the black stump, in the sticks, in the outback, way up country. It was beautiful. It was a two hour drive to the nearest shop.
They lived in a river valley, full of trees, and grass, and mountain views. Fresh air! They would ride horses to their tiny rural, single-teacher school. It was an idyllic life on the farm. The sun always shone, so it seemed.
Down the valley flowed a wandering river. They would catch eels there, and trout, and fresh-water crayfish.
It caused a great deal of excitement when driving one summer to visit grandma in the far north. Leonard decided to detour and show his kids his place of childhood.
Soon we will be there…
It’s just around the next corner…
And there it was! Spread below them from their mountain view! A huge hydro dam! The river had been bulldozed, and the entire childhood farm lay drowned under water. Machines had left scars everywhere. The place was a mess. A huge landscape dump, with wires, and pylons, and all that stuff.
It didn’t stop Leonard in the future from boasting to his three kids about where he grew up as a child. It was way in the boonies, in the whop-whops, beyond the black stump, in the sticks, in the outback, way up country. It was beautiful.
“In your dreams, Dad. In your dreams,” said Leonard’s three kids.