There are places that you know as a child that can remain forever enchanted and magical. Places can capture a child's imagination and become a magical kingdom where all the senses are employed and magnified. One of mine was Turville Heath. To the casual passer by it could seem like just another stretch of fern- filled woodland that is part of the stunning countryside that stretches from the Chiltern Hills to the Oxford plain. It was one of my favourite childhood outings. A natural adventure park full of attractions to fill you with delight and fear. We would make fires and cook sausages- not allowed today- lay picnic rugs on the rough grass and sit drinking tea on the fallen logs. Then we would be off to run wild and to explore. There was a hollow tree which we could hide in, hidden ponds to fall in and nettles that could sting you. Then after all the bracken, ferns and brambles you could come across a clearing that seemed like a secret kingdom. Maybe there were fairies there, or little people or ogres. Then we would be running back to the picnic rug, to safety and sit around listening to stories. The sun that dappled the woods when we arrived would start to go down and we would gladly go home as dusk fell to our bright and welcoming home leaving the countryside to the rabbits and the night time creatures,thinking of the mysterious life that went on there. Here is one of my mum's favourite campfire stories.
One dark night a gang of robbers sat round a campfire and the leader said'Simon, stand up and tell us a story.' So Simon stood up and said' One dark night a gang of robbers sat round a campfire and the leader said'Simon, stand up and tell us a story'. ......
Yes well... It made us laugh !!
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