I wanted less neat pathways, denser trees, somewhere to get lost in, somewhere primeval. I wanted a Wild Wood.
In the city? Amongst the neat roads and houses and municipal parks? I set off to find one.
“Always, no sometimes, think it’s me, But you know I know when it’s a dream,
I think I know I mean er yes, But it’s all wrong
That is I think I disagree”
But next comes something even more surreal. You see, Strawberry Field has two gateways. And from the other lesser known one it’s obvious that the former Salvation Army Children’s Home is being redeveloped.
Yes, ‘Strawberry Field, The lifestyle you promised yourself’. Ha ha ha ha ha. The hollow laugh that lasts forever.
“Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see”
I continue my quest, moving through one of the richest area of Liverpool in search of the Wild Wood I know is in here somewhere.
I walk around inside its perimeter, then I go into the heart of the wood.
About the Wild Wood and its continuing importance to the children we have and the children we are. The place where the stories come from.
“If you want your children to be intelligent, read them fairy tales.
If you want them to be more intelligent, read them more fairy tales.”
Here I can breathe. And I sit for an hour or more. Reading and daydreaming. Reading and daydreaming.
It’s not a particularly big piece of woodland, in fact there’s a bigger one nearby, Childwall Woods, that we’ll have a look around one day. But I love the fact of its wildness, its existence and survival in the midst of so much suburbia.
I walk home. And on the way catch site of what I first take to be a military graveyard.But this is Bishop Eton, a Redemptorist Monastery. And outside its church of ‘Our Lady of the Annunciation’, these are the graves of the Redemptorist Fathers and Brothers who have prayed and worked here
Nearly home, but coming down the hill of Woolton Road towards the Mystery…
Liverpool, The Black Wood and the Redemptorists. Resting in peace as evening comes on and this story of the day gets told.