Ever present in all of these memories, the glorious backdrop to childhood adventures, is nature. Every memory recalled is linked to the land it occurred in and on, land that has now, in many places, changed beyond all recognition, but still as I pass by, there is still that feeling, that aura, that sense of spirit that persists.

The bonds that bind us to one another may change and vary but they are there. In times of need, it is these bonds that serve us best, that can form the basis of community in the truest sense of the word.

The memories move slowly, languidly. Like syrup or honey, sweet and oh so good, but clear and distinct. I can even remember snatches of conversation, still catch the scent of summer; the early morning coolness, then the hot air of afternoon, tinged with freshly mown grass. I can still feel the shiny black water worm writhing in the palm of my hand as I unfurled my fingers, hoping to see a newt.