Afternoon sun shines on slate roofs. Front gardens sit neatly below small square windows, framed with frilly net curtains. There is no-one around. The quiet is disturbing but the dramatic view of a Rhondda Valley hill, rising up at the bottom end of the road, is breath-taking, as if it was just created, a universe being born.
I face the neat row of terraced houses, taking in every detail of the house where I was born. Imagine what it would feel like to open the little garden gate, to walk the short path to the front door, just as my mother did, starting her new life far from the comfort and security of her Irish home and family, but this was no refuge for her, creating painful memories that would blight her whole life.
The secrecy of net curtains. Watchers, waiting. Someone who still remembers. I cannot take the step towards the past, and yet, I capture this place of my beginning with my camera. It seems important somehow.
Masked Native 
Somewhere in the past beyond my ability to understand, reside events the results of which continue to inform who I am.
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Thank you Tom, we are all searching, but I know you are one who responds to the heart, when it calls, no matter what.
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Places, houses, neighborhoods can change so radically, this was an extraordinary attempt of resurrection and closure at the same time. But then I acknowledge you are of the “brave” tribe. I can hardly imagine how this will filter into your imagining
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Thank you j.h. your insight gives me the words I need to understand my feelings. Resurrection, closure, yes, both of these, it happened, and I accepted the present, a long story, but we all have a story. I am intrigued why you say I am of the “brave tribe”. I take it as a compliment, thank you.
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Memories of generations, passed down through our genes, the longing to return to the centre, who we are, letting go, being here.
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niceley written…
😉
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Thank you very much.
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no, thank YOU 🙂
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What do you think of
“secretive net curtains”?
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Hi there dipumpkin, thanks for liking my post ‘Diary of a Blow-in’, I appreciate you taking the time to read it. The secrecy of net curtains for me simply meant, that although there seemed to be no-one around, there was the feeling of being watched, curious eyes, wondering who the approaching stranger was, and their apprehension at finding out if I was to knock at the door, and me, almost drawn in by this unspoken invitation to announce myself, and yet, the secrecy of net curtains allowing me the choice.
Your holistic blog is interesting, I look forward to reading your posts.
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Okay. So you prefer the secrecy to “secretive net curtains”?
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The “secretive net curtains” is also a more direct personification.
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Secrecy may not be correct grammatically, but it felt like the right word at the time. There are always alternatives. Which do you prefer?
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I wasn’t going by grammar. It sounded a bit heavy in the mouth, like marbles. I prefer my suggestion, but I had just wondered if you had an artistic reason that would trump the efficiency.
https://aholisticjourney.wordpress.com/2013/05/25/the-writing-process-save-spit-part-2/
I would not have spent the time if I didn’t care about every word.
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I do appreciate your comments, good criticism is always welcome. I also labour to find the right word and your suggestion has made me wonder, for in hindsight, I realise that my subconscious had the upper hand. Thankyou so much for your interest.
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Well, since you seem receptive, I’m on Round Two of the series on the writing process. You’ll find them either in reverse chronology or under the Most Popular on the right. I was just trying to be helpful.
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