Sunday, 18 November 2007

Carbon Footprint

Sometimes, on rainy, wintry whattodo days like these we take Lily for drive; just because it gets us out of the house, the baby invariably will sleep and we get to finally talk to one another. So that's what happened, we loaded up and drove up towards Ryedale, up towards where I spent most of my childhood.

If there is still such a thing as kinship of the land then my affinity lies with the Moors, just a whiff of some wet bracken, the sight of yellow gorse and purple heather sends me somersaulting into childhood reminisces. We found a pleasant long meandering road, the burnt umber bracken all beaten down by rain, the trees every colour of autumn and I smelt that smell again, the smell of my youth and fell to wondering what evocative sights and sounds my little girl would remember most from her upbringing.

It is a weighty thought to believe that you are responsible for a large part of someones memories, but above all I hope that I can allow her to experience some of the freedom and innocence that I had as a child, running wild, elemental and barefoot across the beautiful North Yorkshire Moors.

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