Remembering a time…

Childhood memories holiday

We spent our days in the precious stillness of the bush, where Dad was building the camps he’d designed. Every day was an adventure; an innocent indulgence in the simple life: climbing trees, collecting pebbles, building forts, racing stick-boats. Fire-cooked meals and cold-river baths. We’d find animals in the clouds; count stars; listen to birds; read books as we sat in trees; and explore paths that didn’t exist until we made them. This was our world, our home. And we were free.

Karkloof Falls Nature Reserve, circa 1986

This snippet was written for Edgars Club magazine, for
a collection on writers’ memories of childhood holidays

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