sheep

Driving down a street in the neighbourhood where I grew up, I was looking for an old friend’s house. I realised I had driven past it so I turned around and drove slowly back up the road. I saw her house where she had lived with her mother, father & brother, plus the house next door where her grandparents had lived. Her house was now changed, the walls made of rocks instead of weatherboard, perhaps a rock façade. I went in and found the family having dinner. After greetings, I looked out the window at their beautiful back yard: a vast & lush green lawn with great fig trees and a flock of sheep grazing out the back. The dark grey ram was twice the size of the sheep; I watched as he roamed among the flock. I told my friend’s mother that the garden was exactly as I had remembered it and that I often thought of it, which is strange as it was extremely different from how it actually was.