This post was written by Anthony, aged 9, who entered our Young Persons’ Writing Competition 2020.


In the morning, when I wake up, I will poke my head out of the tent and shield my eyes from the first rays of sunlight, piercing through the canopy of treetops.  The robins will have woken up before me to prepare their humble symphony.  As I grow into the morning and start to fully wake up, I will head into the wilderness and go fishing in the rapidly gushing river that slithers like a snake. The water will be a huge blanket of shimmering silver.

When I’ve hopefully caught a fish, I will return back to camp through the spidery forest of trees, bushes, thorns and gnarled limbs cloaked in mist. Once I have passed the maze of trees and prickly thorns and returned safely back to camp, I will cook the fish I caught, on the fire. Is there anything tastier than freshly caught fish?

After lunch, I will go scavenging for pieces of the wild. I will start my hunt by going north and looking for animals, and then from there, I will climb some trees and look for birds, that soar through the sky and dive down as soon as their beady eyes spot food. The wilderness is so beautiful and so wondrous, I would love to be there during Isolation instead of being trapped in a cage.

Once the day Is over, I will sit around the campfire and roast marshmallows. The tangy, smokey sweetness floating up my nostrils. I will watch the flames dance around, spreading lights everywhere like small fireflies glowing in the night sky. Gazing up at black nothingness, I will see the burning glimmering stars spinning around.

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