A long flight of geese, a lone woodpecker and a blue hue tinged light greet me this campervan morning. The cloud, with varying shades of grey, crawls eastwards, an occasional snatch of blue revealed as it passes over. The cold of the last few days given way to a wee chill on the fingers. A blackbird in the oak greets the morning alongside me, as well as dancing robins and starlings calling in the ash. No usual grind from roads or aeroplanes. A blue tit dashes around the branches seeking food. Another busy nature driven suburban morning. I am making my way slowly through ‘The Children’s Fire ‘ Heart Song of a People, by Mac Macartney. It’s an off and on read. I have a few of those, books that I am drawn to and read when certain moods or feelings are present and yesterday and today I am drawn to it . He writes of the Welsh word ‘ Hiraeth’ The translation of which is an uncontainable longing for the landscape of home that is lost and will never return. The inescapable truth of our destruction of our environment. He continues to write :
“ I doubt I will ever escape the sense that, outside of stone, water, sinew, blade, fire, herb and breath, everything feels synthetic in comparison “.
Returning from my tribe and away from landscape and my connection to it, I have the sensations of a synthetic feeling to my current surroundings. Martin Jordan in his book on counselling and psychotherapy in outdoor spaces writes :
“ Human identity and personal fulfilment somehow depend on our relationship to nature “.
My identity tied up with landscape and my tribe. Lovely days people.
“ Men dull in mind find no cause for wonder anywhere ; they idly sit at home instead of going to see what is on view in the great theatre of the world “. Conrad Gesner.
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