Black Hill

Oh Memories... and new family joy.

After tea I dragged the boys on a walk to Black Hill. At the foot of the hill: "I remember that cliff", "I remember that path... it goes over that rise and there was a tunnel through the blackberries", " Yes I remember this road, if we go around here there is a reasonably easy climb through the pine trees". "I remember this soil smell". While we found new spaces, and experienced our own new adventures, I related the dangerous and tame adventures of my teen years. "See the edge of that cliff behind the tree? We climbed that, up the pink and orange sandstone ... and over there? there was a wider space, just as steep where we took the younger cousins up, all of us tied together". We climbed up and down, and walked around, and each bend and rise brought back more memories, and new rocks for Fish to collect.

Passing a dozen interesting paths to take "next time", we decided eventually to take a loop around the long way rather than retrace any of our path. "This reserve - it was a tip... the smell when we rode home from school... yeuch", "On the way to school, down this hill on bikes, imagine our speed"... "and the time a car was turning as I neared the bottom of the hill, and I squeezed the breaks and my back wheel started to come around and I came this close to this storm water drain". Memories mixed with stories, and jokes, new discoveries, and plans and ideas, filling our hearts with the joy of creating new memories to share.

Next time: water bottles says Cricket, a camera says mum, a bag for the rocks says Fish.