A place of refuge
A child finds refuge in an abandoned orchard near where she livesFour years old; I stepped into my place of mystery; of escape and refuge from an angry mother, and passed from a world of concrete and buildings to walk on earthy, soft, wild walkways between bushes and trees. There were nettles that stung you and dock leaves to wind round your wound to soothe it. There were blackberries to pick and eat at leisure and thorns on the branches to prick you. There were bushes to hide in and b...