Sunday, April 18, 2010
Just back from a few days on the edge of the world.
Actually, it was the Isle of Skye. But it felt like the remotest edge of everything.
To get there, the road became narrower and narrower, right down to a one track lane precariously skirting the edge of the sea.
The house was at the head of a beautiful bay: it was comfortable, well built, well appointed, with solar panels and a wood stuff.
And cut off from the rest of the world. No landline, no mobile reception. No internet, no television.
All you could ask for, really.
Of course we could hardly bear it.
As the poem says:
"Human kind
Cannot bear very much reality".
And it's as if we need to be trained up to bear happiness.
Coming back to discover that all flights in and out of Britain have been grounded.
By a volcano. In Iceland.
The travel industry call it a catastrophe. Which from their point of view it is.
But such an opportunity too for us to gain a better perspective of our place in the world.
Actually, it was the Isle of Skye. But it felt like the remotest edge of everything.
To get there, the road became narrower and narrower, right down to a one track lane precariously skirting the edge of the sea.
The house was at the head of a beautiful bay: it was comfortable, well built, well appointed, with solar panels and a wood stuff.
And cut off from the rest of the world. No landline, no mobile reception. No internet, no television.
All you could ask for, really.
Of course we could hardly bear it.
As the poem says:
"Human kind
Cannot bear very much reality".
And it's as if we need to be trained up to bear happiness.
Coming back to discover that all flights in and out of Britain have been grounded.
By a volcano. In Iceland.
The travel industry call it a catastrophe. Which from their point of view it is.
But such an opportunity too for us to gain a better perspective of our place in the world.
Labels: the difficulty of paradise
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A friend described this year as being a bit like an apocalypse. First the snow bringing everything to a halt, and now the volcanic ass...ha ha....I'm not going to delete that! I actually thought the 'ass' was coming down over where I was was driving and got quite excited until I realised it was just ordinary blossom. I had a perfect weekend all to myself and it wasn't quite real. Time just became irrelevant and slowed down. Time is supposed to go quicker when you're older, I think time scale does - like kids growing up and overtaking you in height, and the passing of seasons. But minutes and hours can seem to go much slower especially when you fit a lot in, or just go by what the light outside does. And if you ever get the feeling time is too quick you can sit for three minutes doing nothing, and that feels like a lifetime. I'm glad you had a good rest on the remotest edge of everything. Is your next play called EVERYTHING? Going along with the EVERY theme you'd never be stuck for titles!! love, Jennyxo
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