I think of freedom of movement in my 1950s childhood in Eaglehawk, Victoria, Australia, The World, Space, The Universe. I had a bike, Mum’s old ‘war bike’, and could go where I wanted – to Lake Neangar, the park, the pool, the shops, the cemetery, the rubbish dump, the Bush. Childhood places have a special quality.

Posts about Eaglehawk Childhood

• TREES WHICH LIE DOWN.
• Old Mulberry Trees
• ‘Eaglehawk Girl. A Freerange Child’ is launched.
• Cows in the Garden
• The Last Swim of Summer
• In Praise of Pepper Trees
• My Mother’s Bread Board
• The Diesel