An Enchanted Place

/ Dee

All over the world, (yes that’s right) writers are busy staring at the photo prompt and putting fingers to keys to say just what they see.  Thanks to Sandra Crook for the photo this week and to Rochelle for leading us along the Friday Fictioneers trail.

13 March

 

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

An Enchanted Place

Fairies danced here once. My sister, cousin and I watched them at twilight as they danced about in the clover, their flimsy wings translucent and dotted with pale colours. No adult believed our stories, laughter and a pat on the head was their usual response.

Life moved on as life does, we three lived ours in different countries, until death robbed us of our cousin. Returning to this place where we played and laughed together, I feel the loss of the child I knew and the weight of the adult I’ve become.

I won’t come back.

The diggers arrive tomorrow.

♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

Note: Our enchanted place is no more, except in my memory. Fifty houses now stand in the field I was remembering, where we ‘saw’ the fairies long ago.

Click on Mr Frog to read more great stories 

43 thoughts on “An Enchanted Place”

  1. Dear Dee,
    I’m seldom a fan of fairy stories in the Friday Fictioneers mashup, but this had the ring of beautifully constructed magical realism. Then at the end you delivered again with the confession that this really happened. Great stuff. It reminded me of the song “Pretty Place” by Paul Kelly.

    (The vocals are a bit flat in the only video I could find, so I’ve included a link to the lyrics too–in case you can’t make it through the song.)

    http://www.metrolyrics.com/the-pretty-place-lyrics-paul-kelly.html

    All my best,
    Marie Gail

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    • Dear Marie Gail
      I hadn’t heard of “Pretty Place” before and after reading the lyrics I can see how the story reminded you of the song. The ‘pretty place’ I refer to always held sweet memories for me and on a return visit to the town where I grew up, I took a drive over to the fields by the river where I used to play as a child. There was a board telling of a coming development of houses, I know people have to live somewhere, but it seemed so wrong to me then that developers should build there.

      Thank you for reading, it s always good to hear from you.

      Best wishes

      Dee

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    • Thank you for reading. It is sad that the older you get the more you rely on those childhood memories and the places that brought happiness and laughter. When they are gone you do feel the loss.

      Great to hear from you, as always.

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    • Thank you Karen. I didn’t intend the ambiguity, but after I’d finished I could see that it was there. My cousin was killed in Canada and so never came home, the land now has around 50 houses on it.
      Pleased that you liked it.

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  7. Your story evokes similar thoughts as those I left on KT’s site only a moment ago. Memories are so precious and part of (like cotton, right?) the fabric of our lives. What a blessing to have good memories to which we can return! Those memories are as magical as fairies, but far more substantial.

    janet

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    • Thank you Janet. Memories are special and so personal. During our last ‘catch-up’ phone call, my sister and I somehow or other got round to discussing a picnic we went on years ago, when a bright sunny day turned into a thunderstorm and we all had to run for cover. My memories are of the brilliant flashes of light in the sky and the darkening clouds closing in; she remembers how wet she got running to the car and how the red dye in the headband we was wearing, ran down her face. I don’t remember any of that…

      Great to hear from you as always.

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    • Dear Doug

      Thank you for the link, I hadn’t heard of it before. I do have a copy of Cecily Mary Barker’s book ‘The Flower Fairies it’S an old copy and I think it had been reprinted. Here is more about her – ‘http://www.amazon.co.uk/Cicely-Mary-Barker/e/B000APU0RI/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_book_1

      I’m pleased you liked the story, as always your comments mean a great deal to me

      Best wishes

      Dee

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  11. Dear Dee,

    There used to be a forest across the road from the neighborhood I grew up in. I had a favorite tree that had the perfect branch for sitting on and dreaming. Your remembrance put me back there. The forest, of course, was cleared long ago to make way for more houses and lives on in my memories.

    I’m terribly sorry about your cousin. Beautifully written story.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

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    • Dear Rochelle

      We re all so busy with now, it is good when something like this photograph makes you stop and remember times past. I was lucky to have had a great childhood which has left me with many happy memories; I know others have not been so lucky.

      Though the memory was a happy one, it did bring back thoughts of my cousin who, with her family, emigrated to Canada when she was 9 years old. She was killed in an automobile accident, leaving her two year old son to be brought up by his grandmother. The last time I saw her, she was waving goodbye at the docks in Liverpool. We never know what life has in store for us, which is a good thing.

      Thank you for your kind comments, they mean a great deal to me.

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  12. I love how you recaptured that childhood belief so fully. I have many such memories and love hearing my children at play, especially when they don’t realise I am listening. Change to our childhood playgrounds can feel so personal, especially when linked so closely to the trauma of a bereavement

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    • Thank you Siobhan, childhood is a fantastic time. I now listen to my granddaughters at play, there imaginations ruining riot. There is a sadness on revisiting places where you played as a child, they never seem the same to adult eyes, the magic you saw as a child has gone.

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  13. Going back to old places: they never are quite the same, are they? I like the transformation from children’s imagination to adults’ realism.

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  15. Touching. I grew up & spent my youth playing in what used to be a remote area… no longer. I empathize. Once lost, those magical places never return. I did wonder about “diggers” also… we call them back-hoes around here.

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    • Childhood places revisited are never the same. ‘Back-hoes’ is interesting, I’ve not heard that expression before, that’s another great thing about being part of the FF group, you are always learning something new.
      Thanks for stopping by.

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  22. Lovely childhood memory, Dee. For a child, there’s a thin line between reality and make-believe. When a former playmate passes on, it’s hard for those left behind. Too bad money trumps care for the environment for builders. Well done. 🙂 — Suzanne

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