Thinking back…

I was at the Lakes recently, which took me higher north in this country than I have been before. It was a great trip and I had looked forward to going for so long. It were to be our little get-away together, me and G. And me normally being a complete sucker for any kind of just slightly dramatic landscape, I was expecting to be babbling in delight at the first sight of anything even resembling a fell or a big lake.

However, as Life so often reminds us… things happen the way they are meant to, not the way we expect them to. And in this case, for me this meant a slightly unpleasant surprise. I looked around me, saw the dales, the hills and the mountains (are they high enough to be called mountains?? My jury is still out on that one…) I saw the streams, the falls and the vast lakes… and despite everything and anything I would normally have thought, something in me said: “I DON’T LIKE IT!”… I felt oppressed somehow, and sad. I was jumpy and nervous, and every time G and I were in the car I was driving him nuts because I was so anxious. It was just plain stupid but no matter how much I reasoned with myself I could not rid myself of the feeling of being unsafe and intimidated.

As the days went by I started to feel less uncomfortable around it, and thankfully G didn’t let it stop him – or us – from doing what we had planned to do. The weather stopped us on a few occasions but nothing a few changes to the plans couldn’t fix.

One day we scaled a steep forested hillside in the rain, and after about 90 minutes we cleared the forest and came to a wide stream we had to cross. For the first time we could look up towards the peak. It was covered in clouds rolling down the hillsides. It looked like a ghostly army charging a long-forgotten battlefield. It was eerie and fascinating at the same time. And as we moved up and the cloud army marched on down, eventually we met in some kind of awkward embrace. We had to give up the rest of the ascend as the weather was worsening and dusk was approaching, so we only stayed minutes where we were… yet still it is the memory that sits with me the clearest and strongest of the entire trip.

I don’t know what went through my head as we stood there and looked down at the valley (or whatever it was) far below us, but somehow it seemed I made peace with the whole place. I forgave something (probably myself for making such a fuss) and somehow I felt freer to enjoy and be excited about the rest of the trip.

At the end of the stay I wished we could have remained there for a while longer. I felt like I had bumped into someone I knew once, and I wasn’t ready to let go just yet. It made G smile and shake his head, and promise that we would return at some point. But as we drove away, I looked in the rear-view mirror and thought to myself: “do I really want to come back, now that I have finally escaped it again??”

Hard to please, I know LOL

Memo to me: Contradictions confuse. Take time to just have an open heart at times.

Thinking back…

3 thoughts on “Thinking back…

  1. absurdoldbird says:

    It’s curious because when I posted my comment I though, “are these old posts even seen by their author?” Myself I love comments on old posts (not that my main blog is really very old, and the new one is literally 4 days old), but I found it via your tag cloud (I love tag clouds, wish the widgets in my layout included one, I have to settle for categories) and am very glad I did.

    You have some lovely memories, and what you’re saying in your comment to me brings back some of my own, too. Thank you!

  2. absurdoldbird says:

    On a trip to Wales with my sister in the late eighties, after my mum died, when I first thought of living here, we went to Pembrokeshire and an area there completely gave me the creeps. It made me feel like the forests and hills were trying to smother me. Yet just a few miles along the coast and inland a bit, there was an entirely different feeling, different ‘vibe’ to it. It’s curious how some places make us feel, and I can empathise with this post.

    1. Scattered Rayn says:

      Gosh, I haven’t read this far back in my blog for ages. This post is back from the time when I still lived in England (at least 5-6 years ago by now), and yet in reading over it again… everything came flooding right back. Not just the memories described in this post, or the feelings that you reflect on in your comment… but all of it. All of “England”. Of driving to the airport early in the morning while mist still clung to the fields. Of the tiny bunnies clustered by the side of the road at dusk and dawn. Of the sun setting over the “Devil’s Punch Bowl”… and rhododendrons in bloom on Leith Hill. Of roaming the streets of London and walking by the Wey. Of driving down over the South Downs to Arundel or Brighton. Of the ponies in the New Forest.

      I miss it. I miss it all.

      And even that feeling… that “vibe” as you call it… that I got at first when visiting the Lake District (and Stonehenge too for that matter) … even that I miss. Feeling so atuned and connected to a place, even if it is in a slightly unnerving sense, is something worth cherishing.

      THANK YOU for reminding me of this! For bring it back to me 🙂

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