This was the name of our "Club" when we were young.
Inspired by Enid Blyton and Famous Five.
My sister, our friends and I.
Armed with torches in broad daylight, as playing after dark outside was out of question.
Some food provisions. No fancy cans of candied fruit and sausages like the books.
We had biscuits. Something that was available in plenty in the kitchen.
And an old set of binoculars that had long been discarded by my father.
We would meet in the garden and draw out plans for our "adventure".
I would run up to tell my mother that we were going to the hillock beyond our garden.
My mother would nod a yes- busy with her kitchen chores. Maybe she never heard me clearly.
We would troop out in a single file through the gate in our back garden.
Make our way through thickets and low bushes, following a cattle track.
Jump out of our skins when a squirrel rustled down a tree.
Sit in a clearing and gobble down our biscuits.
Walk some more.
And then head home for lunch.
Happy with our adventure.
Little did we realise then, Life itself is the big adventure we embark on.
That every cattle track we follow may not lead up to what we aim for.
That we may soon run out of our biscuits and yet have to plod on.
That our torchlights and binoculars fail to show us the treacherous turns and bumps.
And that, when we are tired and hungry, we look for the path back home to see that it is long gone.
Truly, we are in the midst of an adventure.
And maybe we can look back at our Adventure Clubs of yesteryears and see whether we can fall back on some learnings... maybe...
( Picture Courtsey: www.google.com)