Our poor ma was blind so there was always one of us holding onto her hand to make sure she did not take a tumble and the rest of us waddled around her like the scruffiest set of ducklings in hand me down clothes you could ever turn your nose up at. People must have rolled their eyes when they saw the Coney kids coming. Ah well, we never knew any different.
One particularly sunny day we discovered under this particular wee bridge a load of spawning frogs. There were big globs of frog spawn with translucent shapes, half formed, about to wriggle free. We loaded some of it into our wee plastic buckets and took it home with it where we watched some of it grow into small frogs which we let go in the back alley of Etna Drive. I had hoped the back gardens there would become swampy enviroments where all manner of swamp creatures would hang out. Bog monsters and albino crocodiles, the usual stuff boys dream about.
It did not happen though, all the back gardens were bulldozed and the whole area tarmaced over.Just one long black featureless road to nowhere.
And to think someone somewhere thought that would be a good idea.
Who needs gardens after all....
