Saved For A Rainy Day
“Just Off Off The Beaten Track!”
Walk Time 45 Mins
Today l took 190 photographs from the start of my walk to the end of my walk – it took me an hour alone to sort the ones out for the post and another hour editing and an hour to write this post about a walk that took 45 minutes … which l will now share with you.
This is a long content post.
I was groggy this morning waking up. I went to bed early…ish 12.31am and my light was off at 12.59am and l don’t even remember seeing 1.01am, so l was tired. I awoke at 3.21am for a pee and then woke up at 6.22am and dozed till 6.58am …. it’s all about time these days which was kind of ironic considering my discovery two hours later – not that l knew that at 6.22am!
When l did eventually get out of bed which was 7.24am l was met by Suze who had managed to get a block of four hours sleep during the night and was in fine spirits … but also the sun was shining and she was not so down … way more bubbly than yesterday – SAD could be put to bed for a while.
If l have changed in the 7 years we have known each other so too has she .. l have peaked and troughed in both Asperger’s and NeuroAsperger’s and she has peaked and troughed in Menopause and SAD. From my perspective the latter two combined are even more challenging than my Aspergers! As much as l love Suzanne, these last few months have been very hard with the departure of wintery SAD and the sadness of losing Scrappy and now a raging pandemic sweeping the globe and Lockdown.
I always told Suze that whilst she may not have been a party animal, she was fundamentally more social than me and that her statements of ‘not needing people’ may well be challenged one day if the wind was to ever change … ironically the wind has changed and she l see needs more people contact than l do.
But l have seen that here in WP too, those who maintained they were staunch introverts and the reality was a little different. Everyone can be an ”introvert” by choice when they have choice, but you can see the intro’s from the ambi’s when it’s not so much choice but a forced situation. Suze is struggling with lockdown even with frequent communications to friends and family and l have to keep watching out for any signs of serious deterioration. Sleep deprivation will not help her case either, so l am thankful she has slept!
Suze had been out for her morning walk and visited Bluebell Wood or Kingsdown Wood as it is known by the conservationists and said in the glorious sun it is well worth the visit for the Bluebells which are ‘truly beautiful’.
Why not l thought … l didn’t know where l wanted to go today .. and with the sun shining, but there still a chill to the air, l needed to be in the sun more than the wind. I am truly glad l did.
I set off for my walk at 8.12am and was back in the house by 9.18am. As l set off this morning, l was greeted by the friendly blackbird! The male Blackbirds have the most stunning range of song and this chap has been with our garden since we moved here in 2016. Our little man has a marvelous melody of mimicry and he is always so cocky. I have written about him before in the gardening series.
He was sitting on the telephone wires when l first started walking and then deliberately flew down and sat on the fence … on the return leg he flew in front of my face by three feet [so close l could feel the beat air of the wings] and landed once more on the fence. Nature is, l feel overjoyed with life at present.
“Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”
Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.
A man and a woman
A man and a woman and a blackbird
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
Icicles filled the long window
With barbaric glass.
The shadow of the blackbird
Crossed it, to and fro.
Traced in the shadow
An indecipherable cause.
O thin men of Haddam,
Why do you imagine golden birds?
Do you not see how the blackbird
Walks around the feet
Of the women about you?
I know noble accents
And lucid, inescapable rhythms;
But I know, too,
That the blackbird is involved
In what I know.
When the blackbird flew out of sight,
It marked the edge
Of one of many circles.
At the sight of blackbirds
Flying in a green light,
Even the bawds of euphony
Would cry out sharply.
He rode over Connecticut
In a glass coach.
Once, a fear pierced him,
In that he mistook
The shadow of his equipage
The river is moving.
The blackbird must be flying.
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.”
“The best walks are those that are just off off the beaten track and they do so fill your head with music, quotes and sound and imagery and fairytale magical mystery!” RM 2020
It was another good walk or to be more precise, a slow comfortable stroll just off off the beaten track and as l entered the woods l thought of that quote by Rebecca Solnit “I like walking because it is slow, and I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works at about three miles an hour. If this is so, then modern life is moving faster than the speed of thought or thoughtfulness.”
This morning l decided to try to deliberately think as opposed to randomly thinking … l wanted to think about me, my thoughts, wants and desires – l wanted my time in here to be all about me. To not have to think about the life we find ourselves living, to not have to be worried daily as l am about my relationship and or my partner’s mood swings, to not have to be concerned about the world, to not think about crazy economics, world slumps and great depressions and to not think of the news or the virus or the pandemics or the death … no, to just think about me.
I wanted to think and watch and observe the quiet of this wood, and bathe in both the tranquility and sunlight, bask in the serenity of nothing, to dance with the shadows and to mold into the tree art and drown in the songs and callings of nature. But something else … l wanted to spend time thinking about my new poetry collection.
Which is exactly what l did … l spoiled myself and downsized my pace and slowed my thinking down to Rebecca’s saunter. I let the already quieter world swallow me up in the moment and then l strolled and switched off and let my mind wander off with the many squirrels l saw today … go slower and the world is just is …. as it is supposed to be.
Today’s walk was going to be about me …
I knew relatively early in my walk that my new poetry collection, the first to be written in four years would be simply called “It’s About Time Mate!” Which l think is very nicely captured and is suggestive of so much for me personally and emotionally and globally – because it has taken this event we all live in to push me forwards to writing a new collection.
I have perhaps 15 collections of poetry that stretch from the 90’s till now … my blog has three hundred plus poems in the directory, some collections, some collection pieces, and ‘prompt poems’ – but it doesn’t have everything ever penned over the last thirty years. In all, l have perhaps created 3500 poems in those years … many have been discarded and are just dust in another world and another time, some lie in folders and await further inspiration, some are partially worked and others are snippets of life, of moments, of forgottens … many still sit in my head and stay there till enough inspiration or trigger moments or points says .. ‘enough, now is the time you are to write’.
…………. a time to discover..
I can respond to a prompt every day of the week and produce something original, but l have to be in the right mind to pen thoughtful mind’s eye poetry, l have to be open, l have to have an element of many emotions ongoing at once, l have to be there inbetween yesterday and today and tomorrow and l have to be almost in a mindless limbo of space, of fairytale and of magical mystery within to start a collection.
Just Off Off The Beaten Track …
Many people love my words and what many do not understand is or perhaps even know is … l don’t. I feel a collection approaching, it needs to be written … but just because l can write beautiful words or original lyrics and rhyme doesn’t mean l love my own poetry … l don’t, l detest it many a time … sure, fine and okay if you insist … l like some of it … but l can do better than my best. I am always looking to best my betters and my best so that l can become better!
…….. to escape the confines…
I love words, the depth and sensuality of words and l enjoy making love to words and watching them sit inside each other, l love the way words and letters can do that … a lot of people and especially non poetical writers will not understand that…
… and just allow nature to swallow you up…
…. a philosophy of words and nature combined will create ..
… but with words there is an inner intrinsic and meaningful beauty, a raw sexuality – of turning yourself on with words … not erotica, although lovemaking and word creation are very similar….
…….. your new you!
……… a new thinking for a new collection … of words and letters …
…unused and used and a new style of mind art too.
Your mind needs to be clear …
And focused at the same time…
I stood there in the wood listening and drinking in the quiet, the surround sounds of nature watching me absorb the world around me, watching me walk within my self, within my own quiet footfall on the clouds and nature knew what l was doing in their space, our space …
To find the magical inner eye ..
… and be eager to capture those glimpses ..
And the magical emotions of … life and time combined!
… of fairytale moments ..
… and of the sensuality of used words
…. and the romanticness of the unhidden!
l was allowing the natural ambience to literally sweep me off my feet – make me fall in love again with words, discovering the essence of the collection … today the collection was born.
I can start now, a hundred thousand used and unused words will make up this collection, that l don’t love but need to write to appease nature, to appease the inner me – the me that doesn’t appreciate my own imagination or creativity … the sadness within the happiness, that lies deep down in vaults … today l saw the poems emerge. I have been experiencing for the last three months or so, a new awakening, a new me, l have evolved again … now is the time to birth myself.
It was a great walk today, a much needed induced nature drug complete with hallucinations and visions … now the time’s here. I finished off the walk with a stroll down by the horses who were drunk on hay and fresh grasses and dozily enjoying the new sun of the day.
Thanks for reading.