Frodo gives me the perfect excuse to put off the housework and other jobs and go out walking in the lanes and fields around Gloucester. This daily amble in the countryside in the company of a friendly animal is reminding me so much of my childhood when I used to ride my pony off into the woods after school every day. In my teenage years I spent hours with Saxon and later Lucky, riding through the woods or on the moors, sometimes with another friend but often on my own. I remember soaking in nature, and talking away to myself in my head, day-dreaming, singing if I was sure no-one was around, talking aloud to the pony who twitched his ears forward and back and nodded his large head agreeably. I was never bored, never lonely. I loved those hours and hours of being outdoors in the peace and in nature.
I think I had forgotten in the interim how much I relished that solitude and freedom, and trees and fields and streams and toadstools and foxes and moss-covered rocks and ferns and flowers and clouds and sky. As a student and then in my working life in England and then Africa, I was hardly ever alone really - my work and home was always in community, and I have always had quite a lot going on socially even though I wouldn't say I had particularly many friends (- although always enough). I remember when we were drawing pictures of ourselves in early days at UCU in Louise's expat women's fellowship, drawing a picture of a hornbill in a tree and saying, "I like to get away into nature" - but I hardly ever actually did it. Although when at one point in the middle of our time I got over-busy in Mukono, I did try to go up monkey hill once a week and sit on a rock and watch birds and have a prayer time.
Walking with Frodo over the last two weeks has re-opened my eyes to the sheer pleasure of rambling past the cow-parsley and buttercup filled hedges, hearing birds singing, seeing rabbits bounce away into the grass, talking to the dog, communicating with God, just "being," surrounded by nature. I love this world God made. I think I'm going to turn into a crazy old lady, - and I might do it soon!
Hey, rosie, I'm quoting this from another source... but it seemed so related to what you were saying....
ReplyDeleteDid you by chance hear the interviews with Maurice Sendak that NPR replayed today? I only heard the last interview, when he was quite advanced in age. He wept for the loss of his friends, the majority of whom he seemed to be outliving. He then looked outside his window and talked about how he loved the world, how he would cry everyday until the day he died for the love of the world he would have to leave.