My wormhole through a Yorkshire childhood

Otley, West Yorkshire It ran around the back of our house, connecting it to the fields via a conduit of green shadows

Mid-run, I suddenly stop by the inconspicuous entrance. I have passed it many times, but the thought to revisit never occurred until now. As an adult, with my sense of scale expanded, perhaps it had acquired a sort of invisibility, vivid in the memory but overlooked in the present.

You might refer to it as a ginnel. You might even, depending on where you grew up, know it as a gennel, a guinnel or a jennel; a yard, a 10-foot or a close; a chare, a chure or a chewar; a jitty, a jigger or an ennog.