The 3 boys lived together as brothers in a house that was too small.
It chased them outside and into the open where the sun shone, and the air was fresh and nature was everywhere.
Here they explored what the earth offered wit the presence and immediacy that made time fly.
There were times at the river where sticks, old bottles and reeds were lashed together to build boulder rapid boats that then raced to the still waters where the ducks swam expectantly waiting for bread.
Shelters and huts were constructed in amongst the undergrowth, and stories told of how they’d stay overnight inside the protective stick and grass walls.
Water was always a lure. Rivers were waded, shorts and shirts bundled and hurled to shore, and bodies submerged at every opportunity possible.
Bonnie the small terrier accompanied them on their adventures — running alongside and chasing rabbits whilst they rode through forests on their bikes.
The journeys together lead to new things.
Like the time they had to hide under a big conifer whilst the heavens opened with heavy drops that released earthy smells from the forest floor.
And when they discovered magical and forbidden looking mushroom cities clinging to the bark of tall trees.
The outside time would then end, with a retreat indoors and the boundaries that it held.
I wrote this over 10 years ago as my 3 much younger boys grew up together. In times before so many screens.