Loot for the Secret Treasure Tree
Our Friends arrived at 3
A map guided the way;
flags flew from shrub and branch
The garden; beyond the Sea.
Books from childhood shape your experiences in life. All my days, I’ve lived in the afterglow of Enid Blyton’s, The Magic Faraway Tree, among a huge range of other tales. Book worms, you hear me! It surprises me now my own two children are in the throes of their most creative years, how remnants of those stories appear in my own play with them.
Sometime’s I am like the cross Mr Saucepan and can’t get up enough steam and other occasions, a seed planted long ago surfaces and we make whimsical memories. Our secret treasure tree, with it’s apple blossoms was destined to be filled with little bags of loot. This tree, in part of an enchanted wood is located in our very own Secret Garden; even my less bookish husband refers to that. This tattered novel, treasured in my bookcase has had generations of my family playing.
Tied with ribbon, the packages we made up were tucked into the hidden nooks of the heirloom apple tree; dangled paper- wrapped loot. Streamers were strung around shrubs in the garden, at height from a gum and over gates and rose thorns; guiding the way to our chosen place. The map was lost in the party buzz, but appeared the next day.
When we first moved to this house on the hill, a couple of months ago, the orchard was bare. Just sticks and brown buds waiting for the sunshine. The day of our planned house warming and a birthday too, the branches gleamed green. White- flowered tips hid treasures for the clan of young pixies and the friendly big folk that came for an afternoon to eat and play.