The Children of King’s Square Gardens
We had decided to do a little ritual of some kind in one of London’s many green spaces. Someone had noticed Kings Square Garden in EC1.
The wall was chest height. I wondered if I would make it over. Something seized me and I scrambled over gleefully. But one of us couldn’t make it. It was too hard for her. I felt so sad, for I was losing a playmate and I know she would have been fun. Eventually, we agreed to go on without her.
The garden was neat. Paved paths led helpfully across it. Seats flanked a flower-bed. More paths led invitingly to children’s play areas.
This was the first time I had joined the group – occasionally meeting to celebrate the moons, and sometimes going to green spaces in London to meet with the beings.
We sat down on the benches and enjoyed the cool evening quiet. Unlike some other places the group had been to recently, this was a happy place and I felt contented. After a while, knowing there were swings, I persuaded my companion to take me to them.
It was a bit of a squeeze getting my bum between the big chains that held the wooden seat, but I managed it. Soon I was swinging and swooping. I was seven again, cheerful and agile, adventurous and dreaming as I swung, happy and free.
The beings of the square laughed like small delighted children as they watched me playing. I began to sing and they liked that too.
Called by my companions back to now, I eased myself stiffly off the swing and tottered off to investigate other childish delights. The spring bouncy thingy (heaven knows what it is called for I have never encountered such a thing) was a bit scary. I was okay when clinging on unsteadily. As soon as a human playmate got on, it got too rough and I found myself greeting like a slightly frightened child.
But chocolate comforted me and I sucked it quietly as we walked around the gardens again. Young birch trees sat with old Japanese Willows, holding the space and watching. With more difficulty, I climbed out of the garden and stood waving and calling my goodbyes through the rough Iron Gate, thanking them for the lovely play and promising to be back.
We had decided to do a little ritual of some kind in one of London’s many green spaces. Someone had noticed Kings Square Garden in EC1.
The wall was chest height. I wondered if I would make it over. Something seized me and I scrambled over gleefully. But one of us couldn’t make it. It was too hard for her. I felt so sad, for I was losing a playmate and I know she would have been fun. Eventually, we agreed to go on without her.
The garden was neat. Paved paths led helpfully across it. Seats flanked a flower-bed. More paths led invitingly to children’s play areas.
This was the first time I had joined the group – occasionally meeting to celebrate the moons, and sometimes going to green spaces in London to meet with the beings.
We sat down on the benches and enjoyed the cool evening quiet. Unlike some other places the group had been to recently, this was a happy place and I felt contented. After a while, knowing there were swings, I persuaded my companion to take me to them.
It was a bit of a squeeze getting my bum between the big chains that held the wooden seat, but I managed it. Soon I was swinging and swooping. I was seven again, cheerful and agile, adventurous and dreaming as I swung, happy and free.
The beings of the square laughed like small delighted children as they watched me playing. I began to sing and they liked that too.
Called by my companions back to now, I eased myself stiffly off the swing and tottered off to investigate other childish delights. The spring bouncy thingy (heaven knows what it is called for I have never encountered such a thing) was a bit scary. I was okay when clinging on unsteadily. As soon as a human playmate got on, it got too rough and I found myself greeting like a slightly frightened child.
But chocolate comforted me and I sucked it quietly as we walked around the gardens again. Young birch trees sat with old Japanese Willows, holding the space and watching. With more difficulty, I climbed out of the garden and stood waving and calling my goodbyes through the rough Iron Gate, thanking them for the lovely play and promising to be back.
posted by Blackbirdowl | 4:53 AM
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