Grasmere

Wrapped in mist like a faded watercolor cloak,
The hills rise from the lakeside, dreamily timeless.
Earliest fall hues brush the leaf tips here and there,
The colors at once subtle yet brilliant,
And I will myself to remember every nuance,
Even those - especially those - that the camera will never capture.

The day unformed, the possibilities unlimited,
Moment by moment, the evolving light teases and beckons.
The autumn air is crisp and freshened by the night's rainfall.
It invigorates the body and the soul.
What simple, honest pleasure to walk among nature's glory,
To feel muscle and bone collaborate, lungs work, senses alive.

Many other feet have walked this way before mine,
Some, like mine, in idle wandering, many more in purposeful pursuit.
In distant times we call simpler, leading lives we can scarcely imagine.
A centuries-old dry stone wall continues its slow crumbling, tumbling earthward
At a pace only the hills can measure,
Swallowed by thick emerald moss, by decay, and by time.

© 2012 by Gloria Garrett Schofield

Time and the perception of time

Lighthouse, Portmahomack, 16 July 2012

I've been thinking a lot about time lately, probably because of the exhausting trip back from the US.  Even after 10 days, I still don't think my internal clock is quite right, but let's hope it's finally getting close.

Time is a strange and ephemeral thing.  It is always with us, but I think we understand it very little.  We can't own it, control it, or hold on to it even momentarily.  With time, perception is everything.  The same 5 minutes can seem fleeting or interminable, depending on the pleasure or pain of the circumstances.  And the more time passes, the more it seems like a funhouse mirror:  elastic, distorted, even mocking.

I am 60.  I don't know how much time I have left, but it is surely less than what I have already experienced.  Sometimes I look back with utter disbelief.  Can it really have been almost 50 years since I was watching the Beatles on Ed Sullivan?  Are my babies really 22 and 24?  When did all of this happen?  Was I not paying attention?  I really tried to pay attention, but I was too busy with the things that make time accelerate out of control and yet matter so little.

My amazing mother is 86.  It was such a joy to spend time with her in Tampa and Sanibel recently.  Her memory is phenomenal.  When she is telling a story about her childhood, or about law school, or her travels, it is as if she is there right now - and she brings you with her.  Time seems to pause - or perhaps it is altogether meaningless.  I know I have to savor - and treasure - my time with her.

In the last few weeks, there seem to have been nearly constant reminders of time and my perception of it.  When the border agent in Aberdeen questioned the length of my stay in the UK, pointing out quite sensibly that I will have been here for 8 months in 2012, I was inexplicably stunned.  Somehow, I hadn't thought of it that way.  As he said, "8 months is not visiting.  You're living here."  Oh, right.  I guess I am.  I had thought of living here as something I might be doing eventually, not something I was already doing.  That was a very eye-opening and educational conversation.  Suddenly my perspective shifted and time was somehow different, but nothing had actually changed.

"What it all comes down to is that I haven't got it all figured out just yet" sang Alanis.  I don't expect to figure it all out, or even much of it, but maybe I can be more of an expert on the one topic I ought to know something about:  me.  I know that I'm incredibly lucky to have the options and opportunities that I have at this time in my life, and I know that I truly do appreciate them more than I would have 40, or 20, or even 10 years ago.  That's a nascent start.

Inverness -> Aberdeen -> Amsterdam -> Atlanta and Beyond

Tomorrow I will reverse the trip I made on 11 January.  I will not only be reversing the route itself, but the trip will also be the "reverse" in the sense that, rather than going from the familiar to the unfamiliar or the known to the unknown as I did in January, I will be traveling back to the familiar, to family, friends, and the southern US which, until 3 months ago, has been my home all of my life.

But the biggest difference is that tomorrow I will not be traveling alone.  I will be bringing Lynden with me, and I hope I can be one-tenth the "tour guide" he has been for me.  Competing with the raw, wild, and genuinely awe-inspiring natural beauty of the Scottish Highlands is a tall order indeed!  We plan to visit the north Georgia mountains and North Carolina, and to do some hiking on the Appalachian Trail and elsewhere.

Later in the visit we will spend some time in Florida, possibly both the east and west coasts, and by then we should know which one of us has the greater heat tolerance!  Perhaps I have a slight edge based on length of experience, but I wouldn't place any wagers.  This winter in northern Scotland has shown me that perhaps I'm not quite as cold-natured as I thought I had become in recent years.  However, I have to say I am a bit concerned about the rapid transition from one climate to another upon arriving in Atlanta tomorrow evening.  It's been in the 30's in Inverness after our mini-spring preview of a few weeks ago.  I remember last summer, upon returning from the cool mountainous region of Guatemala to a wall of heat in Atlanta, I was in a state of shock.  I'm hoping that the fact that, at least technically, it's still spring will be in my favor.

Yesterday we went for a walk along Glen Strathfarrar, where there was a new and stunning vista every few steps.  We took over 230 photographs (I've posted a few below), including several groups of mountain goats, and we saw a fox that wasn't interested in posing.  It was a gorgeous day, perfect weather, and a fitting send-off.  I found my eyes lingering on now-familiar scenery, well aware that it would be several months before I would look upon it again in person.  While many of the day's photographs turned out to be excellent, we agreed that they did not capture the beauty that our eyes had seen.

Today dawned gray and drizzly, and as I write this approaching mid-day the rain is continuing.  If the weather continues this way until tomorrow, maybe it will make it a bit easier to finish packing and fly away.

The first mountain goat of the day was not particularly camera-shy.

Yes, the sky really was that blue!

Cuckooflower

Home

As I write this on April 3rd, I have been in Scotland nearly 3 months.  I return to Atlanta 2 weeks from tomorrow, which has caused me to reflect on what I look forward to (and don't look forward to) about that fast-approaching event.

What I look forward to most of all is seeing my children, my sister, my friends, and my little dog Daisy.  I also look forward to showing Lynden the Atlanta area and as much of the southeastern US as we can possibly squeeze in.

What I look forward to least of all is the heat and humidity, which can be so energy-sapping.  I just hope there will be a few weeks of weather that is not oppressively, stiflingly hot.  Hey, I can dream, right?

There will be lots of catching up to do with friends, lots of errands to run and things to take care of - God only knows what's become of my mail since I have long since exceeded my already-specially-extended hold period! - but I'm sure all of that will sort itself out in due course. 

With any luck, I will remember how to drive, and remember to do it on the right-hand side of the road!  I am sure I will fall back into some old habits, but perhaps I will also bring some newly-made ones back to Atlanta with me.  I know that things will feel both familiar and strangely foreign, the way they did when I first arrived here.  It's remarkable how quickly the unfamiliar becomes familiar, and the familiar becomes habit, until you don't even notice it anymore.

But Scotland is not one of those things.  Today dawned with a startlingly beautiful 4-6 inches of snow.  Even though it was in the weather forecast as a very real possibility, it followed a week or more of spring warmth and sunshine, and consequently the world was made new again, easy to see with fresh eyes.  So profoundly beautiful, I know I will miss it terribly.

I have felt so at home here.  Home:  it's a powerful word.  Home.  It's more than the place where you have your belongings.  It's the place where you can be your truest self, where you can relax in your own company, and read, think, or do absolutely nothing.  It's the place you long to return to when you have been away, or when you're tired or don't feel well.  Home is a feeling, a state of mind.

I know I'll be back.
 

Happiness and contentment

Parsley, basil, mint, and sunshine

Everyone knows that happiness is more than just the absence of sadness or strife.  Happiness, and its nearly identical twin, contentment, are something more, and above all else they are elusive.

What is happiness?  Most people would say they know it when they feel it, and most would probably also admit to not feeling it often enough.  It can be hard to grasp, and harder yet to keep.

As Americans, we're told that, along with life and liberty, the pursuit of happiness is an inalienable right.  It's in the Declaration of Independence, so it must be true, right?

I feel like I've spent most of my life waiting for the "next big thing" to happen to me:  the thing that would finally make me happy.  There have been so many of those "things" through the years, with retirement being one of the most recent ones.  In between there have been lots and lots of mini-goals, what most people (including me) would call "something to look forward to," i.e. something to help you to put one foot in front of the other and get through as many days as necessary to reach the appointed promised land.

The trouble with this approach to life is that with every sigh of "Oh, how I wish it was time for my vacation!" or "Only 273 days until retirement!" you're basically wishing your life away.  Believe me, I know.  I'm as guilty as anyone.  It seems like just last week I was 25.  But, in fairness, you've got to do what you've got to do to get through what you've got to get through.  I certainly did, so I'm not judging.

I've made up my mind that I'm not going to do that anymore.  Life is precious, and none of us knows how many days we are allotted.  As Carly Simon told us so many years ago, I'm going to "...stay right here 'cause these are the good old days."

As I write this post, I'm happier than I have been in a very long time, and it has nothing to do with things, events, or other distractions.  It does have everything to do with feeling comfortable living in this 60 year old skin, with laughter, with spending time close to nature, and with good and loving companionship.

I hope to be able to sustain this happiness - this contentment - in a way I have never been able to do:  by embracing every day to the fullest, with gratitude, optimism, and my eyes open wide.

Too corny?

Water

Water:  I like it all.  As found in nature, that is.  The beach, of course.  But I truly do mean all of it, or at least all that I have experienced.  From the vast ocean to a tiny babbling brook, from a calm lake or a tiny tadpole pond to a roaring waterfall, to rivers of all types, the sight and sound of water gives me a feeling of connectedness that I just don't get from anything else.

Growing up in Tampa surrounded by water, I took it for granted.  I guess that's what most children do, but it is the one thing about Florida that I have consistently missed.  For the last 20 years, on my annual pilgrimage to Sanibel, reaching the first bridge over any body of water makes me smile inside.  And even visiting my parents in Tampa, approaching the bridge onto Davis Islands makes my heart lift and my mind drift back to all the times I crossed the bay on a school bus as a child.

There is water in Atlanta, of course.  There's the Chattahoochee River, and any number of smaller rivers, creeks, and ponds.  And if you go a bit further outside the perimeter, there's Lake Lanier, Lake Allatoona, and many other man-made lakes as well as whitewater rivers, waterfalls, and more.  But somehow that water never seemed close enough at hand, and I yearned to feel that connection more strongly, the way I had as a child.

Inverness is intertwined with water.  Of course, there is the River Ness, leading to fabled Loch Ness.  But there are also the firths - Beauly, Inverness, Moray, Dornoch, and Cromarty - leading to the North Sea.  The North Sea!  There is even a man-made waterway - the Caledonian Canal - a fascinating and historic man-made achievement in its own right.  And all of this is strictly in immediate proximity to Inverness.  If you venture further, you will find more water.

Enough to satisfy even me.

I've included below a small selection of photos I've taken of some of the water I've seen and experienced since arriving in Scotland a mere 4 weeks ago.

Rosemarkie on the Black Isle

Beauly Firth from Craig Phadraig

Hill lochan near Blackfold

Muirtown Pools and the Beauly Firth

Loch Ness from the beach at Lochend

Same view, through the gorse

Beauly Firth from Blackpark

Towards the Black Isle from Whiteness Head

River Ness and city centre from Inverness Castle

Mute Swans on the ice on Loch Flemington

Cromarty Firth viewed through Cnoc Fyrish Monument

Rocky surf near Chanonry Point on the Black Isle

Muirtown Basin on the Caledonian Canal

Rogie Falls on the Blackwater River

Inverness city walk

Inverness seems to be a very pedestrian-friendly city, and the pedestrians certainly take advantage of it.  You can walk along the River Ness, across multiple bridges, even on the Ness Islands, right into the "city centre" (what we would call "downtown"), by homes and businesses old and new, almost always well-planned, well-landscaped, and thoughtfully set out just as you would want them to be if you had planned them for your own pleasure.  You can visit an actual castle, which now holds courts, with a spectacular view of what lies beyond.

A view from Inverness Castle

Inverness, the unofficial capital of the Highlands, gives the impression of being more cosmopolitan than its population of only around 60,000 would lead you to assume, but I suppose the world is simply a smaller place these days, no matter where you go.  International influences and cultural opportunities abound, and it seems it even has a special niche where weather is concerned, at least in winter, usually shrugging off the worst of what areas to the south and west have to endure.

Finally, it is intimately surrounded by so much natural beauty - forests, mountains, coastline, lakes and rivers - that it would take a lifetime to explore it all.

It is truly a very particular paradise.

New Beginnings

We human beings have so much inertia.

It's always much easier to keep doing what you've always done.  But maybe, when you're in a completely new place with its own way of doing things, it's just a little bit easier to say to yourself, "Just because I've always done it this way, that doesn't mean I have to continue."

In Scotland, or perhaps in the UK in general, everything is just different enough.  Yes, they speak English, but not like they do in the US, especially in the deep south.  Here, the simplest things are called by different names, and the simplest words have unique meanings that may require a bit of detective work before communication truly takes place.

It's that bit of extra effort that such things demand, I think, that makes one open to change, to new beginnings.  I feel to incredibly lucky  to have the opportunity.

The British have a saying, "Start as you mean to go on" which I have been pondering.  It seems to be a good watchword for new beginnings.

Taken 16 January 2012

Aviemore - British Dog Sled Racing Championship - Sunday, 22 January 2012

http://www.siberianhuskyclub.com/aviemore/2012-rally-details/#atop

Plenty of snow for skiers, but not enough to be able to use sleds with runners rather than wheels

The canine competitors were not limited to huskies, however.

Fascinated

Is that our tea?

One blue-eyed beauty

Sunday was cold and grey but mostly dry for day 2 of the British dog sled racing championships in Aviemore.  We arrived near the end of the morning's heats, but there was plenty of time to look around and to photograph some of the teams as they finished their races.  There was a good crowd in attendance, including many canine spectators.

Where's all the snow?

It was a beautiful thing to see so many obviously well-loved and well-cared-for dogs doing what they love and what they are quite literally born to do:  run with all their might.  And, as with many hobbies or avocations that one knows little about, it was also fascinating to see all of the specialized equipment and preparation that goes into the sport.  It was also another workout for the wellies.  Afterwards, we had a lovely meal in Aviemore and then headed back to Inverness.

Snow!

Friday, 20 January 2012 - Blackfold, Great Glen Way Long Distance Footpath


Born and raised in Florida, and spending the next 40 years in Atlanta, I've never really been around snow enough to get my fill of it.  Though the snow didn't stick in Inverness proper, we didn't have to go far - back to Blackfold in fact - to see and stomp around in about 6-8 inches of it, and it was glorious!

My nearly-new wellies, worn briefly for a muddy walk, got quite the workout yesterday along the path as we occasionally encountered slush and muck which at one point threatened to pull the boot right off my left foot! 

Unusual light

The same countryside we had seen a few days earlier was transformed into something wholly new.

A Charlie Brown Christmas Tree

Winter Wonderland

Loch Ness, haggis, shandy, and snow flurries

It's been an eventful day.  It didn't begin with much promise - grey and dreary - but it evolved quite nicely.  We drove toward Loch Ness in the hope that we might get enough of a lull in the rain to permit a short walk.  No such luck.  But we were in luck for lunch at Dores Inn, a nearby pub, where, as two of the first to be seated for lunch, we were cozily settled right by the fireplace.  After ordering haggis, neaps and tatties (haggis with turnips and mashed potatoes for Lynden) and sweet potato and leek soup (for me), we watched as the steady drizzle transitioned into a mixture of rain and and ultimately solid snow.  Lunch was delicious - and yes, I did taste the haggis, which was quite tasty and not at all weird, as well as the turnips, and also the shandy, an absolutely delicious and refreshing combination of beer and lemonade.

The snow was beautiful to watch and did come down quite heavily for a while, but it did not stick, which was probably just as well as we needed to drive.

I'm told we will need to return on a day when we have room for the cloutie dumpling.

http://www.thedoresinn.co.uk/ 

Three days, three walks, and some photos

13 January 2012 - Blackfold, Great Glen Way Long Distance Footpath

Snow-covered mountains in the distance

Scottish sheep

Lynden does not like being photographed

I'm the one with the gigantic head.

14 January 2012 - Rosemarkie on the Black Isle beside the Moray Firth

An infinite variety of rocks

Always happiest near water

A beautiful day for a walk...again

15 January 2012 - Caledonian Canal and the River Ness at Dochgarroch Lock

Photogenic frost

Looking across the River Ness

Colorful boats in the canal

Supply your own caption

Waking up in Inverness

My trip to Scotland was long and mostly uneventful -- until near the end.  After a virtually sleepless night en route to Amsterdam, thanks to a deadly combination of excessive excitement and a nearby extremely unhappy baby, I found my way through the densely populated Amsterdam (Schiphol) airport without too much difficulty.  The much smaller plane (only 4 across) from Amsterdam to Aberdeen was fully loaded and 5 minutes past its scheduled departure time, when I was alarmed to see the captain appear personally in the passenger compartment, microphone in hand.  There was no possibility that this was good news.  It seems the aircraft we were on had had an "incident" during its immediately previous flight and the flight recorder box needed to have its data uploaded.  Consequently, it could not fly to Aberdeen without compromising that data.  We would have to be moved to another plane.  A temporary inconvenience - not nearly as bad as it could have been - except that I had already schlepped my much-too-heavy carry-on bag up steep outdoor metal steps.  Naturally, it seemed to be growing colder and windier by the minute as we waited for the bus to transport us a relatively short distance on the tarmac to repeat the process, with extra standing about in the wind this time.  Following all that, the flight to Aberdeen was mercifully short and without further incident.

Contrary to my fears, I was not detained by UK border control as a suspicious American little old lady spy.  

I was warmly greeted and swept away - to Inverness! 

Scotland is even more breathtakingly beautiful than I recalled it, and that is no small feat!  The weather has been gorgeous - sun every day so far - quite unseasonable for January and can't be expected to last.  I will enjoy it while I can, and find other things to enjoy when I can't.

I have already been on 2 long lovely walks (one of them by the sea) and I have eaten Marmite!  Now THAT is an adventure!

Pictures soon....

Atlanta today, Inverness tomorrow!

Thanks to the miracle of modern air travel, I hope to fall asleep somewhere over the Atlantic tonight, and wake up tomorrow morning as my flight is about to land in Amsterdam. I'm counting on at least a few hours of much-needed sleep!

I will have 90 minutes at the Amsterdam airport to find the gate for my flight to Aberdeen, Scotland. Once I am safely aboard that flight I will breathe a huge sigh of relief, and that's when the serious anticipation will begin.

The flight from Amsterdam to Aberdeen is only about 90 min., not much longer than flights back and forth from Atlanta to Tampa that I have made seemingly a million times.

But this flight is very different.

Countdown

Two days until I leave for Scotland.  Two days!  

I'm steadily ticking items off my multiple checklists, but they seem to be reproducing at night while I sleep, dreaming up more checklists.  The clock is doing its own ticking, more steadily than I could ever do, and, ready or not, Wednesday morning will dawn and soon it will be time to throw the last few items in my suitcase, zip it up, and head to the airport.

Now, I do realize that my grasp of physics is essentially non-existent, but how is it possible that time is simultaneously hurtling forward and standing still?  Could someone please explain that little trick to me?  Never mind:  it might involve something like charmed quarks or some other equally esoteric concept.  I'll just carry on in blissful ignorance, making my lists and checking them, not just twice but many more times than Santa ever contemplated.

What was it that I said in my last post about breathing?  Must. Remember. To. Breathe.

Packing for Scotland

Packing for a long trip to northern Scotland in the dead of winter poses particular challenges, especially for a lifelong southerner who has become more than a little cold-natured in recent years.  Obviously, warm clothes - sweaters, heavy socks, long underwear, a serious coat, gloves, scarf, etc. - are absolutely essential.  

But what else?  Waterproof boots, I am told, are positively mandatory for surviving 8 wintry weeks in a place that seems precariously close to the North Pole.  I must admit that dry warm feet seem like a really good idea.  So...wellies:  check!

My new wellies:  Sexy!

It's easy (at least for me) to get bogged down in obsessing about being able to anticipate every possible need and eventuality that might arise during an 8-week stay, but finally I had to say to myself, "Snap out of it!  You're not going to a third world country, for God's sake!  They have all the modern conveniences - like stores, and even washing machines!"  

After the 20th or 30th time telling myself (and being told) this, it finally began to sink in.  Phew!  What liberating relief!  Now I will simply pack what I have and get what I need while I'm there.  Sanity (or what's left of it):  check!

But why was I being such a control freak?  My only theory is that when you are out of your comfort zone and feeling a bit like you're dancing on the edge, you control what you can.

Instead, I'm going to try simply to breathe and enjoy the ride.  

Welcome to Nascence

A landmark birthday.
A new year.
A new adventure.
And so, a new blog.  And this is my very first entry to my very first blog.  Ever. 

Welcome to Nascence.

The idea for this blog was suggested by one friend and refined by another.  I have always been curious to try my hand at blogging, so we shall see how it goes.

Next week I set off on an eagerly-anticipated trip to Scotland.  I am excited to return to a place that I fell in love with almost 30 years ago and have not seen since.  But that is just the beginning - the greater adventure lies beyond!  And yes, I am being intentionally vague here.  You'll just have to stick with it to learn more.

Intensive planning and preparations are under way for departure on Wednesday, 11 Jan 2012!  I will be flying from Atlanta to Amsterdam (arriving Thursday morning) and from Amsterdam to Aberdeen, and then onward to Inverness by car.  I can't wait!

Stay tuned!