My navel string is buried here

Today on my jaunt, I found myself in my childhood neighbourhood....the place where I was born, the place where I was brought into this world in the early morning hours by a no-nonsense midwife...the place where I drew my first breath....the place where my navel string is buried....the place that will always be "home."
In a child's eyes, everything looks really big, and you feel quite tiny compared to everything around you.....today with my older eyes everything looked a normal size.
I've visited my old neighbourhood a couple of times over the years, but today's visit was an eye opener.
I stared in disbelief at how much my old neighbourhood had changed...lots of changes too.....but I still felt compelled to be there.

A long rugged road leads to the old house.....

 ...which is no longer old, but has been renovated to a newer style.

As I sat there briefly, I was transported back to a bygone era.....I could hear my parents calling my brother and I in for dinner, could smell the chickens as they ran around freely in the yard, and I could see my father's Austin Cambridge parked out front.
It would have been nice to get out and ring the bell and tell the occupants who I was, and I would have loved a walk through the house for old times sake, but as it was, I kept my nostalgia to myself.
Instead I sat and let the memories enfold me....I remembered the time when my mum wanted to spank me and I jumped through the front bedroom window only to land in a pile of nettles below....I got my spanking and felt the wrath of the nettles as well.

 

Turning around and going back down the rugged road, I took note of all the new houses that were being built on the pasture that the neighbourhood children would play on, where we would fly our kites and race each other...oh the fun days.

More construction

We would go climbing up to our friend's house who lived along the upper ridge.

A new road was being cut across the golf course.

 

 I presume that more condos and villas will be built along the edge of the golf course.

 

Driving onwards, I  saw a familiar sight, this house was still there....

....and so was the big tree that stands at the bottom of the road...the same tree I fell out of while climbing one day.

My friends were so afraid, since I'd taken a terrible tumble, but I was fine....but then again maybe that's why I'm so crazy.

More new condos amidst the former houses of yesteryear.

Some are abandoned and forlorn.

Some are up for sale....

.....while others continue to be a haven providing respite from the crazy world outside.

This home is now a bakery making the most scrumptious cakes and pastries.

My visit to the old neighbourhood was overwhelming, so many memories were engulfing me....it was time to go....but not before I had a glimpse of us kids riding our bikes and trikes racing home for dinner.

Yes, I feel spiritually grounded here....no matter where I may roam, I will always find my way back to here...my "home"......my navel string is buried here.

(Traditionally navel strings (umbilical cords) were buried under special trees or plants or buried with a new tree...as the tree grew along with the child, it became a special spiritual bond...their tree.)