When I First Came

When I first came here, the grass was in disarray and the brambles had occupied the court yards. In the stables the leaking roof had failed to wash away the cobwebs and swallow’s nests lined the top beam. No problem, I thought, I shall comb the grass down into a soft bed and plait the brambles to carpets and tourist goods.

When I first came here, the water was low in the well and the thatch was getting thin. Squirrels in the attic, rabbits under the mower and mud leaping onto the walls. No problem, I thought, I shall fill the well with love and cover it with a fine mesh, I shall tell the rabbits to grow up and clean their ears, I shall throw mud at the walls until the air clears.

When I first came, I was so small that the sun shone through my hands and speech was all bells and whistles. I was well acquainted with my father’s knees and could not see over the garden wall. No problem though, give it time, everything will shrink eventually, give it time.

When I first came, no one recognised me, as I had no face. The ground was newly turned, all glorious with rocks of gold. When I stepped out, the thunder covered my tracks and the lights were hung over the great river. No problem I thought, I will pin a laminated name tag, prominent, upon my cloak. I shall not travel on a skate board or other wheeled vehicle. The thunder will cover my words.

When I first came, the air was clear unto the horizon from the orchard, I cannot climb there, the lane was loose with water and moving parts, hedged on both quarters. Under the eaves, lambs sheltered. Under the tarpaulin, the metal work rusted to a pleasant crust, rough to the touch. No problem, I shall magic the apples into cider and get the lambs drunk. Drain the lane, dig it out and rattle the harrow until it sings.

When I first came here, shouldering a van load, the rooms were empty of all thought, keepsakes hanging in the chimney breast, firewood shrinking in the piggery. One side of my face always in sunlight. No problem, I shall wear a dark glass and manhandle the firelighters into position. Calmly, I shall people the shadows with history until it warms up.

When I first came here, the people were strange to me, they spoke in strange tongues and their customs were alien. In time the ground hid me, and the ragged plants grew up around me. I studied hard and soon the languages separated into several distinct groups. Wearing dark glasses to avoid censure I moved amongst them quietly.

When I first arrived, my shopping basket was empty, and I had no credit. The shelves of goods towered above me in a mighty array. In the aisles, the people walked in wonder for hours, discussing the merits of various flavours. I counted seventeen flavours of crisps, a conservative estimate, each one a masterpiece. I will work hard to afford them and display all seventeen on a shelf above the family plan.

When I first came here, I thought that I must have lost my way, but it’s all true.