Don’t ask me about the number plate or the make and model of the car, or what the dull accountant was wearing, but my eyes are drawn to the sounds, smells and sights of the landscape. I’ve had colleagues laugh at what I point out, and I remember my father doing the same – expressing the beauty of a Hereford bull with a perfect back.
And the patterns and connections. It is not just the image, but also the song of land. Yes, land will sing in many ways, in melodies you cannot hear.
It all delights me. I often find myself in the state of watching, still. I still feel childish awe.
I find myself always on the look out for Red Admirals. I’ll watch every Monarch … just to check … to make sure. There is always a very slight disappointment when it’s not. Because when it happens I know something is up, and, whatever it is, it’s going to be something good.
I’ve had that feeling of awe ever since a day in March in 2012, after I had returned from two healing road trips through the North and South reconnecting to this land and the people I love who make this my home …. and I’d had a sleepless night ringing around the world to London and Panama, contacting a brother and a sister to tell them our father had died.
And then the Red Admirals came.
They are my messengers from beyond …. something. Do you believe in that? It doesn’t really matter. I do.
They are the harbinger of change, of hope, and of love.
Some know my story, and it isn’t for telling all, so I’ll leave it there.
One day I might tell you.
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