I eventually located the old farm. I wanted to make it the home of the main character in my new book. I thought I remembered where it was but I couldn’t find it. I must have driven past several times. The crossroads of my memory had altered and there was no farm house to be seen. It had been half-swallowed by bushes and was slowly being strangled by vines and brambles. They formed a thorny barrier as I tried to enter the remains of the driveway that had led to the back door. I gave up and walked around to the other road but here a fence joined forces with thick scrub to guard any entrance. Just one more try, I thought, aware that I was trespassing. If I could just see whether the building had survived enough to stoke my memory, I would seek permission from the new owners to explore further. If it had succumbed completely to time, I would have to leave and be satisfied with the frail nostalgia of my childhood.
I walked back around to what, I am almost certain used to be right way in but the road seemed to have been re-routed and I saw the old side road was now a driveway. Past where the back gate used to be, I picked my way through more scrub. Memories loomed, of my cousin and I hanging bunches of rabbit carcasses from the gatepost for the Diamond truck to pick up. Here the bushes thinned out and I could walk into what used to be the orchard. Several senile fruit trees with lichen-covered trunks still stood. My heart leapt. I recognized the huge loquat tree that, as children, we had loved to climb. Its robust branches still reached for the sky in a profusion of healthy green. It stood beside the large concrete water tank that I knew was close to the house. Thinking a machete would have come in handy, determined I pulled aside some of the vines and crawled, sometimes on my belly, tunnelling through the brambles. At last, I emerged dishevelled but whole, born anew into the world of my childhood. Tears welled as I was greeted by the pink profusion of a large camelia bush. My aunty had planted that bush, a rare extravagance in a place where plants were meant to feed hungry mouths. Almost giddy with hope and joy I looked through the grimy windows and saw into the large lounge room that filled the centre of the house.
Ok, I thought, you really are trespassing. I needed to find the new owners and seek permission to explore further.
