This morning, I’ve been reminded of a childhood adventure. Myself and another young friend scrabbled under a wooden fence and through a hedge of a monastery, into the monks peaceful gardens. We felt alone, free, where no one could see us to tell us what to do or not to do. We explored the quiet gardens, acting like some wildlife safari experts or reconnaissance during a war, to check out the topography. So like kids do, we also got drawn to water and dangled our hands into the pond. We played with the lilies and stared at the pond life. Then we made a new game, one of sportiness and adrenaline. To start the game, we had to stand at an equidistance distance from each other, on the slabs surrounding the large pond. The pretty blue statue of Mother Mary and Child on a plinth in the centre of the pond watched on and we had to keep the pond between us. Then we did some sort of “Ready, set, GO!” and oh did we run! We ran and ran, laughing, getting out of breath and hot, trying as hard as we could to catch each other or moreover not be caught by the other! Around and around, around and around, around and around the pond, then splash and suddenly I was being pulled out surrounded by a host of monks, that unbeknown by us, had all been watching and keeping an eye on us. I think they were the silent type of monks, as I can’t remember a single word spoken to us (unless my ears were full of weed) and I get the feeling Mother wasn’t told or I’ve blanked that part of the memory out (she could be quite fierce).
I wonder how many lucky escapes I’ve clocked up?
Over Soil 
Simply superb 👏😄
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