Finding Freedom in Nature
A finalist from our first Writing Challenge!
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Creative
The last sentence I can recall was:
“Have you ever tried GBH?”
“No I haven’t,” I retorted.
Colourful people doing colourful things. In other words, characters being characters. I somehow justified to myself.
My experience of entering gaol was hazy and blurry. A brick, as they say, is a 10 year term of imprisonment, and getting outta my mind was on my list of things to do, not realising that I would find my true happy place in nature.
Pushing the boundaries and pushing my luck as I wrestled control of my life from within my self.
I needed to find a place in a hurry that could take my mind, body and soul to a higher plane of existence and heal.
I won’t go into an immense detail as to how, when and why it all evolved. But it seemed to grow out of my need to escape the harsh realities of prison. Surrounded by the mad, bad and the sad, I would often just go out into the yard and watch all the birds around us just doing what birds do.
The ravens would stare from great heights at me, giving me the evil eye as they crowed stubbornly, fixated on their agenda for the day. The magpies quietly entering and exiting my unit, before making their way to a cell following a routine as old as the gaol itself.
Blackbirds, the clowns of all the birds I watched, were always either just having a quickie or clowning and grooming each other, close by to the waterfall or pond. Tiny little quail like birds would carpet the green grass camouflaged due to their small size and beautiful colours which would betray their location. Bright blues and striking reds, the only thing I could see separating their species.
My favourites were the kites that majestically hunted in slipstreams and a breeze that they would manipulate to enhance their ability to hunt their prey.
The sparrows! Due to the seemingly never ending dance in the sky, they encircled and entwined, always capturing my attention as they pretended not to be interested before hovering silently above. Then, like a missile shot down directly at their target, they’d head back to their base.
Spring had sprung.
My place of contentment and joy was all around me.
Going out to water the rose garden one day, I heard a croaky voice from within the thicket that seemed to be laughing at me.
On closer inspection, I saw two fully grown cockatoos pecking and kissing and grooming one another, looking at me as if to say, “Suffer, you have to work all day while we live the life!” I couldn’t even begin to explain how beautiful their eyes were. I’ve seen some cockys before. But I’m telling you, their eyes were painted the most beautiful sky blue I’ve ever seen.
Nature truly is wild.
How blessed I was to find my happy place.
The last sentence I can recall was:
“Have you ever tried GBH?”
“No I haven’t,” I retorted.
Colourful people doing colourful things. In other words, characters being characters. I somehow justified to myself.
My experience of entering gaol was hazy and blurry. A brick, as they say, is a 10 year term of imprisonment, and getting outta my mind was on my list of things to do, not realising that I would find my true happy place in nature.
Pushing the boundaries and pushing my luck as I wrestled control of my life from within my self.
I needed to find a place in a hurry that could take my mind, body and soul to a higher plane of existence and heal.
I won’t go into an immense detail as to how, when and why it all evolved. But it seemed to grow out of my need to escape the harsh realities of prison. Surrounded by the mad, bad and the sad, I would often just go out into the yard and watch all the birds around us just doing what birds do.
The ravens would stare from great heights at me, giving me the evil eye as they crowed stubbornly, fixated on their agenda for the day. The magpies quietly entering and exiting my unit, before making their way to a cell following a routine as old as the gaol itself.
Blackbirds, the clowns of all the birds I watched, were always either just having a quickie or clowning and grooming each other, close by to the waterfall or pond. Tiny little quail like birds would carpet the green grass camouflaged due to their small size and beautiful colours which would betray their location. Bright blues and striking reds, the only thing I could see separating their species.
My favourites were the kites that majestically hunted in slipstreams and a breeze that they would manipulate to enhance their ability to hunt their prey.
The sparrows! Due to the seemingly never ending dance in the sky, they encircled and entwined, always capturing my attention as they pretended not to be interested before hovering silently above. Then, like a missile shot down directly at their target, they’d head back to their base.
Spring had sprung.
My place of contentment and joy was all around me.
Going out to water the rose garden one day, I heard a croaky voice from within the thicket that seemed to be laughing at me.
On closer inspection, I saw two fully grown cockatoos pecking and kissing and grooming one another, looking at me as if to say, “Suffer, you have to work all day while we live the life!” I couldn’t even begin to explain how beautiful their eyes were. I’ve seen some cockys before. But I’m telling you, their eyes were painted the most beautiful sky blue I’ve ever seen.
Nature truly is wild.
How blessed I was to find my happy place.
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Creative
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