The Orchard

This is the house I lived in from when I was one, until I was about five. It was in a town called Anguragu, on Groote Eylandt, which is an island in the Gulf of Carpentaria, off the coast of the Northern Territory of Australia. Because I was pretty young, my memories are sort of vague and dreamy-- glimpses and snippets of different things. I remember that old cream-coloured Holden in the photo, I remember our old house, and all those banana trees at the side. The picture on the right is of the orchard that was across the road. I'm not sure if it was an orchard, but that is what I remember calling it. To me, that brings back really vivid and happy memories. I remember the orchard being the edge of my world-- beyond that was out of bounds, unknown, fascinating, scary. I remember running beneath the big fruit trees, the sun shining through the canopy here and there, running further and further. I never ran far enough to find out what was beyond it, and to step out of those safe boundaries of childhood. It sounds silly, but that is one of my happiest and most precious memories.