A fictionalized account of my childhood. I've had to make up most of my earliest memories: my delight in the new world I found myself in, my unrestricted love for my mother (not to last alas) and hers for me. But I'm remembering them as they must have been somewhere in my subconscious I guess. They feel more like facts than fantasies. Only fiction can catch the truth of what we feel. Photo of tree by aad courtesy of Flickr creative commons