'The Place I Adore' by Jessica Muir, aged 10.
As I stare at the undisturbed beauty of the lake the picturesque beauty of the lake overwhelms me. With fumbling hands I reach for my camera. As the dewdrops drip off the trees, I get the perfect picture...
I gingerly put one foot in front of the other, hoping, praying that I will not fall in. I stagger around feeling dizzy, bewildered at the scenic view before me. As the old rope bridge wobbles, I laugh with joy for I know I will not fall.
Reaching down to snap a photo before the swan waltzes off, I am forced to take a step back. The swan hisses, clearly angry of being deprived of his afternoon nap! Other than that old dragon, the swans were graceful and elegant creatures, moving in what looks like a dance across the water. Once I saw a fox there moving as swiftly as the wind.
As the wind whistled through the trees I found myself marvelling at my stunning but simple surroundings. How such beauty can make time stand still, remains a mystery to me. As I walk around to one of the largest trees, I love to step on the fluttering leaves, to hear them crunch. I look at the sky, story book blue, which is magnificent with the house itself against the skyline and the gentle lapping of the water against the shore.
As I step into the room, dimly lit by an electric light, I breathe in the musty smell, nervous in case I slip and break one of many priceless family heirlooms. As a small child grasps at a china vase, you can cut the tension in the air with a knife. I’m just glad it wasn’t me…
As I turn around I breathe in the heavenly scent of Sweet Williams. 'Come on!' yells an adult that looks a little too excited! As my family watch me, I stumble and almost land head first into the pond! As I run through the trees my Mum, Dad and Brother have already reached the end of the dirt track. At the end I see a magnificent topiary, shaped like a harp!
As I enter the house which, in my opinion, looks like a palace, the sheer architecture has a certain air about it that sends shivers down my spine. As I look into the drawing room all I see is dainty trinkets. When I look into the dining room I see the plates arranged from starter to main to dessert. The menus are in fancy handwriting but also in French! The bouquets stand tall and proud in all their splendour. Each room itself is twice the size of our classroom.
These will be the memories that will stay with me for as long as I‘ll live. I adore Mount Stewart and after reading this, I hope you will too.