East Lothian is a place I know well, and long for now that my visits there have ended.
Like you, I mourned loss at those beaches.
Together, Irene and I shared wonder at nature along that coast and taught each other what the other could see; me, geology, Irene, birdlife and botany, so that as well as delight at what was in front of us, we also saw the story of the landscape, and shared that with love.
You’ll know/knew us both by sight - we are/were regulars when you play/played - losing someone makes such bastards out of the sentence tenses when you speak of them; each qualification of present to past is another reminder, and a fresh stab to the heart.
My geology is functional rather than practised, so I have learned from your writings here; thank you for that. Should I ever get back to those beaches, I can now know more of what I’ve only looked at and wondered about till now. As you’ve found; reading and comprehending the landscape around you gives you satisfaction, a sense of the place and more than that, the deep time that’s gone before and shaped what is here now.
On a lighter note, I visited Siccar Point at the start of the year before the trail was built. Immediately post-Christmas the fields were piled high with unwanted brussel sprouts which the sheep were feasting on. Consequently, the air was heavy with the smell of sprouts, both pre- and post-processing by the sheep. Having grown up next to a farm I am used to the countryside being smelly, so there were memories of a different sort mingled with the wonder at the story in the rocks there. But the appreciation of how the story in the rocks at Siccar Point changed our view of, well, life, the universe and everything is humbling.
Thank you for your writings; I hope they are helping you; they’re certainly helping me cope with the grief that follows loss.
Keeping open in this abrasive world, soft against the hardness, loving despite the pain is our courageous daily challenge. Thank you for these words, they have made me weep in solidarity and witness X
What road rises next? We send you love, energy and hope x
Lost-ness arrives as a stranger and outstays its welcome... until one day you look up, and it's gone...
Hello Karine,
East Lothian is a place I know well, and long for now that my visits there have ended.
Like you, I mourned loss at those beaches.
Together, Irene and I shared wonder at nature along that coast and taught each other what the other could see; me, geology, Irene, birdlife and botany, so that as well as delight at what was in front of us, we also saw the story of the landscape, and shared that with love.
You’ll know/knew us both by sight - we are/were regulars when you play/played - losing someone makes such bastards out of the sentence tenses when you speak of them; each qualification of present to past is another reminder, and a fresh stab to the heart.
My geology is functional rather than practised, so I have learned from your writings here; thank you for that. Should I ever get back to those beaches, I can now know more of what I’ve only looked at and wondered about till now. As you’ve found; reading and comprehending the landscape around you gives you satisfaction, a sense of the place and more than that, the deep time that’s gone before and shaped what is here now.
On a lighter note, I visited Siccar Point at the start of the year before the trail was built. Immediately post-Christmas the fields were piled high with unwanted brussel sprouts which the sheep were feasting on. Consequently, the air was heavy with the smell of sprouts, both pre- and post-processing by the sheep. Having grown up next to a farm I am used to the countryside being smelly, so there were memories of a different sort mingled with the wonder at the story in the rocks there. But the appreciation of how the story in the rocks at Siccar Point changed our view of, well, life, the universe and everything is humbling.
Thank you for your writings; I hope they are helping you; they’re certainly helping me cope with the grief that follows loss.
Russell
Deeply moving, beautiful writing. Thank you for being open to share this.
Keeping open in this abrasive world, soft against the hardness, loving despite the pain is our courageous daily challenge. Thank you for these words, they have made me weep in solidarity and witness X
What road rises next? We send you love, energy and hope x
Beautiful writing, as always - and those mandalas! Keep going, keep creating, stay fiercely loving of life xxx
Aww these two beautiful mandalas. I love seeing them both here. Sea ebbs and flows like our hearts.
Sending nighty cheers to your courageous heart and ever thanks for your words 🙏🏼✨🧡
I can picture myself there. With you pointing out interesting things.