Well, That's probably spelled wrong, but the title enscribed above was the frisbee tournament I played in yesterday, with my old teammates from the University of Nottingham's Ultimate Society, Random Fling. It was wonderful flipping a disc around with the crew again.
I am back in Nottingham again, after my last trip to East Dulwich, South London, to visit my Colombian Friend Yeny. I like London, but as the saying goes, it's a lovely place to visit, but I'd hate to live there. I don't know if I've ever managed to convey the respect I have for Yeny and her housemates and the thousands of others I don't know who've moved to another country, learned a new language, and are putting themselves through university by working as near full time as the government allows. I usually feel quite guilty after conversing with any of the residents of her townhouse, and hearing the intensity of their daily work and study schedules-- me and all my wandering, unencumbered gypsy tendencies...
At any rate, London was nice, but when I got up to leave first thing Friday morning, it was raining, which was perfectly suitable. I've realised that I have left nearly every city or town I've been to on this trip when the rain comes. Every town, that is, but Nottingham. I expected it to rain here, and rain it has. But it was raining when I left Bergamo, Innsbruck, and Milano. When the rain comes, it's time to leave. So it was fitting that my last call on south London ended in thunder and puddles. The city is wonderful, the variation of people in residence is unrivalled, and the parks and history inescapably unavoidable, but in the midst of a torrential downpour, it's hard to see any redeeming qualities.
It rained so hard in England Friday morning that a good portion of the M1 between Mansfield and London was flooded, causing multiple wrecks, resulting in the closing of said motorway, and stranding the bus that was to pick me up and whisk me out of the damp cold of London was an hour late. By the time I did arrive, I'd managed to move beyond angry or put out, after all, we all know I have no real appointments to keep, and was simply in a serenely unemotional mood, ready only for escape. I boarded the bus, popped in my earbuds, and immediately fell to sleep as the driver did his best to navigate us out of the traffic, construction, and flood barricades and off towards the North. I came to when I realised the bus was no longer lurching among other vehicles, but had eased into the hum of overdrive. I saw the last far-flung semblances of city and modernity pass across the horizon, as the clouds broke, and all at once my vision was filled only with the inimitable green of English grasslands. I turned off the music and shook myself to full wakefulness, and lost myself in the scenery. There was one small pasture in particular that's still in my mind. It was hemmed in by the classic rural English stone wall, broken here and there by the growth of trees, and the field itself was filled only with lush grass, save a solitary tree out towards the middle. It was noon, but this far north on the globe, the autumnal sun never rises more than about 40 degrees off of the southern horizon, so that even high noon has an appearance of what reminds me of 4 in the afternoon at home. So, after a long and, comparably, distressing morning, noon though it was, as I passed by that picturesque 12 acre plot, the shadow cast by the tree had an effect of the last hours before sunset, and the hectic psychological constraints of the city died all at once as I remembered why I truly love England.
Or, for that matter, Arkansas, or bits here and there all over the parts of the planet I've seen thus far. Trees, stones, and the greenery of nature in general. England, nor indeed Northwest Arkansas, can truly claim any longer to be an agrarian, rural locale. The ways of life that suit and require such surroundings are quickly dying, and my favourite source of serenity along with them. As Allen commented a few posts back, quoting some classic American lighter rock: "Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got till it's gone. They pave paradise and put up a parking lot."
Take stock of where you find peace, and what you know is worth loving, and enjoy it soon. If not today, this week,or when you're able in the not-so-distant future. If it's London, New York City, or Spring, Texas, or the Snake River, Sahara Dessert, or Puppy Creek, get there sometime soon. Myself, I hope to get to either northeast or southwest England in the next month-- either Yorkshire, or Somerset and Dorset. If I can, I'll hire a bike and ride along some canal towpaths.
What speaks serenity to you?
2 comments:
I like going up to my parent's cabin. In fact I am going up there on friday. I think the leaves may very welll be at their peak. Which up there means that the canopy is yellow, the ground is yellow, and there is yellow falling from the sky.
hmmm...I enjoy logging on to a particular web-server where people from all over the world play the game of "Go". When watching a game the program makes a sound that is supposed to sound like a "go" stone hitting a Go board after each persons turn. I don't know the sorta randomly timed "hits" give me the feeling that all over the world....life goes on. Well, there's some inner workings of TheThinker for ya!
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