Olivia Plunket writes about 'My Escape', a tree :-
I pick up my book and pen, open the door, and begin the journey to my favourite place. I walk along the stony path and then onto the grass, and past an oak tree. Then I see it, the sycamore tree, surrounded by grass, with leaves that come in thousands. It has vines that cling on to it as if it is all that they have. The branches seem to never stop growing and new ones are forever appearing.
This tree has seen many things in its life. It has many memories and if it could speak it could tell many stories, for I'm not the only person who lies beneath it. I've never climbed it for I do not want to disturb the nature that lives in it. When I reach it the smell of freshly cut grass surrounds me with the warmth of summer. I listen to my music when I'm there, but I can still hear the soft singing of the birds in the background.
- Robbie Hollis writes about My Desk,
- Amelia Shirley about My Hill,
- Harry Brooke about his 'Signature Tree',
- Stephanie Brann about The Astroturf,
- and Jack Armstrong about The Tibradden Radiator.