A plan

As a child I knew every alleyway and cut through in my neighbourhood. I knew how to get the 2 miles home from town through back gardens. I was an intrepid explorer. I made tunnels from chairs, clothes pegs and blankets. I made camps in hedge rows and up trees. I bunked school to climb the church roofs, in fact roofs were a theme for a few years with the tennis courts clubhouse and the parks toilet block being particular favourites.

As I tumbelled through my teens exploration became synonymous with freedom to roam. My hood grew and by the time I was driving it became enough to "go for a drive"....an aimless foray into town, country and beyond.

Young adult hood saw a move out of England as the need for freedom really took grip. It never seemed a concious choice to not make a plan, I had no idea why I was going nor what to expect. Looking back it seems innane, but im sure then I would not recognise the person I have become.

As an adult I have rooted, I still loathe the word "plan"