Winter (Year 2) — Veldmeer Airfield

Winter flight training continued for Seb and Raven as the landscape turned white beneath them. Gloves were now not ‘just a cool’ flying accessory, they were absolutely necessary, along with a warm scarf and thermal layers under the flying jackets that had been given to both boys on their birthdays by Grandma Bella.

The boys were consolidating their circuit flying skills, making multiple short flights, practicing take-offs and landings on the same day. After being winched up to around 1000 feet, they would release, fly straight ahead for some distance on the upwind leg, then make a left-hand turn for the short crosswind leg, before turning onto the long downwind leg flying parallel with the runway, another left-hand turn for a short base leg, then turning again to make the final approach.

Seb was on his third flight of the day, and Daan, sitting in the back seat, was progressively handing over more and more of the flying as Seb’s confidence and skills increased. However, Seb still had one flaw — a tendency to fly a little too fast on the final approach and landing. After correcting Seb on the first two flights, Daan decided to let him complete his circuit and land, even if his speed was still a little too high.

Valley Road to Headwall

With Daan driving and a Hundeerwagon full of boys all pumped from their flights, they were looking forward to getting back to Headwall where the promise of a full Harvest Dinner awaited.

Autumn — Headwall Station: Year Two

A full year had now flown by since twelve frightened and traumatised boys from a collapsed, hostile Earth, walked down the ramp of a Hundeerde shuttle into a new world and a new life. Twelve boys taken into a Hunde family and who were shown complete and unconditional love, acceptance and belonging. Each one, on a unique journey, carrying their own personal loss and grief.

Notebook. Telescope. Necklace. Cooking. Engineering. Gardening. Sewing.

Morning — Workshop

Raven continued to work on his coffee table, and was now well underway making the legs, from large blocks of wood. Marta had shown him on the first leg, how to chisel out and make the holes for the mortise joints — and then left him to it. Marta was not one to hover; she was available if needed. The second and third leg had gone well and he was feeling confident. With a steady tap of the mallet, the pile of wood shavings on the bench grew, filling the workshop with the scent of freshly cut wood. The workshop was the place where he felt happy and most himself.

Raven was carefully chiselling out the last mortise joint on the fourth leg. A large chunk of wood was still stuck stubbornly in the bottom of the joint and he put his fingers down to try and free it, using the chisel with his other hand to try and pry it out. Without warning the chunk of wood came free, the chisel slipped, and it sliced cleanly across the palm of his hand.