The ‘Mary Carroll Park’ as inspiration for my story ‘The Lake and the Ravens’

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This is Mary Carroll Park for me.

The park that makes me smile and where I can enjoy with easiness a meditative walk.

In my walks with my Sammie-boi or without him, when the silence is so complete, and the world’s agitation so far away, and the stress of the day so insignificant, I suddenly notice the creatures around me. Here and there I can hear the conversations between the nature and the birds, and I can see the birds arguing with each other, and feeding their babies or chasing each other with flapping wings.

Just like any other citizens of this world.

They have neighbours and friends, and they have babies to feed.

The story is called ‘The Lake and the Ravens’ and an excerpt here:

‘The wind whispered over the tall greenery and must have scared a small creature, because something crawled away almost silently. Ducks flew in circles around a bush, annoyed by the crawling thing. The ducks landed near the path and slid through the same gap, following the crawler. They all disappeared, hidden by the banksias.

A dead tree trunk with its roots still sunk deep into the shore of the lake towered over the water. Somebody had taken time to paint the naked trunk a buoyant light blue. A carved wooden bench next to it invited walkers to sit and take in the lake with its surface coming to life and wait for the houses across the lake to appear out of the mist.’