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As a child I grew up in the English countryside, close to moorland. My family lived in an old farmhouse, nestled in the hills and surrounded by rolling green fields. We kept three goats, two dogs, a rabbit and chickens. My favourite pastime was to be outside with my animals, taking care of them and having them take care of me.

We had a big field that was on an angle of about sixty degrees. From the field, you could see the gravel road below and all the fields and gardens on the other side. The air was fresh and clear, and from my field I felt on top of the world. At under four foot tall, this meant a lot! It was the perfect place to sit and ponder the meaning of life, or just how to do the school homework for tomorrow!

At the top of the field was a small copse of trees, which my brother and I used to climb, and build tree houses in. There was a badger set, and bats cruised around our heads at dusk. The low stone walls were often dismantled by us as we built caves and dens. On one occasion we tried to move a huge boulder (I was small for my age and what some would call an ankle biter'). As usual something went wrong and my brother fell under the boulder as it rolled away. We thought he had broken his leg! Finding that he hadn't, we turned to watch the boulder bound down the hill towards the road, gathering speed as it went. Thankfully for us our garden wall took the brunt and collapsed. Naturally we had to rebuild it afterwards.

We had huge imaginations and were never without a game to play or a way to pass the time. Our three goats used to run around with us, often having a small sparring session with each other. They were Patience, Lucy and Matilda. Pure white hair, with small goatees and a penchant for eating the vegetables instead of the grass.

My oldest dog, Vicky, was my companion. She was trained as a guide dog for the blind, but sadly could not be kept away from water! Obviously she couldn't serve as a guide, so my mother took her in from the training school. Vicky was incredibly sensitive, to the point of coming to you and placing her head on your lap just before you got upset about something.

So, I passed many childhood afternoons sitting in my field, with my flat-coated retriever Vicky to my left, and my youngest goat Patience, to my right, watching the world go by as the balmy summer breeze softly stroked our cares away. We used to watch the clouds, imagining what they looked like. That one a tree, this one a car, and so on. My memory holds many gems from this house and the animals we had. I never fail to draw on those memories in times of sadness or upheaval. It will always be a source of calm and inspiration to me, for the rest of my life.

Learn more about this author, A Morris.
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