york{minster}

ahhh, york

york was our favourite

like paris years ago, we didn't expect it to be... it just couldn't be helped

long ago, in the early planning days, i was corresponding back and forth with wendy of the crafter's apprentice blog, telling her of the places we planned to go

she was surprised there were almost no cities on the list

"well, you must go to york", she said

"even if you go nowhere else - go to york"

and so we did

york is steeped in history - with every twist and turn of the tiny cobbled streets still contained with the ancient city walls

we walked the city wall early on a saturday morning, looking out from the ramparts in every direction, both within and without the city walls

marveling at just how much fun it would be to be a kid again and find a posse to play knights in shining armour with

(some kids get the best backyards!)

the beauty of york minster...

the history...

constantine the great was crowned emperor of rome there in 306 a.d.

names from history books take on new meaning when you walk where they themselves placed their feet

we spent a few hours touring through the railway museum

my favourite part was the royal trains

the bunting hanging overhead, adding a touch of glory

i love the idea of historical travel

nowadays it's all about how quickly and efficiently they can get you, and a whole herd,  from point a to b, with the least possible cost or disruption

for what it's worth, i'd rather get there in comfort and style and enjoy the journey 

(which is why we indulged in hot chocolate and shortbread on almost every train day!)

don't you think the picture below has "grand tour" written all over it?

this trip was so important to me but i didn't want to put a pile of expectations on it

rather, i wanted it, and england to be as they were, letting me just draw them in, enjoying them for what they were

but i couldn't help hoping i would get to hear the pipes whilst we were there, especially when we were in scotland

after our day trip to kyle of localsh, on the shores of western scotland, we walked back to our b & b, through the gathering dark

the moon shone on the river, with the castle, glowing brightly against the dark sky, high atop the hill overlooking inverness and in it's shadow, a young man stood on the street corner playing the pipes... 

it was pretty darn wonderful

but it was late and we couldn't loiter... we listened to one song, and then moved along...

on our last day in york, an hour before we had to catch the train, we came upon this...

a wonderful pipe band, complete with scottish dancers

when they began to play the tears flowed and to my embarrassment, i cried the whole time

great big alligator tears - the kind you can't be discreet about - yeesh

thankfully i had a pocket full of tissue

afterward, marc asked me why i cried and i couldn't really answer him - probably still couldn't

family, history, memories, desire, freedom, life, joy, spirit

all of those things and more were wrapped up in the music they played

i remembered when i took highland dancing

i was very little and not very good... i usually finished my dance at least a minute ahead of everyone else...

maybe that's why i was crying!

salisbury (not steak)

yep, you read that right

we went to salisbury, the place

it wasn't on the itinerary but we went anyway... as the days ran out on us and we treasured each more, the itinerary went out the window and we made it up as we went, from the heart...

the salisbury cathedral has the tallest spire in england, reaching high above the city-scape, gilding this beautiful building that was begun in 1220 a.d.

 many beautiful statues of all different sizes adorn the outer walls

and an imposing entryway

 the view from the side

salisbury was a highlight of our trip

there's a fabulous fabric/needlework shop there too you know

and we had the very best fish and chips and mushy peas of the whole trip in salisbury

marc enjoyed afternoon tea for two, and proved it can be for one 

(minus two very small pieces of delicious cake that i helped myself to!)

when we chose to go to salisbury it was primarily because of it's proximity to several museums of interest... but getting to them without a car proved to be "difficult" and so, in the end, we decided to go to stonehenge...

 out on the salisbury plain, on a gentle knoll, stand these stones

it was never on our list to come to them - too touristy, i think, was our feeling - i hate anything that requires jostling with the cast of thousands for my little piece of real estate in order to take in something special

but, we went

when you walk up the path from the visitor centre, the first view is somewhat unimpressive... to be truthful, it was the first time on our trip that i saw something that disappointed... they looked a bit of a jumble, and not really all that big...

 they're roped off, so you are kept well back of them - too many daft idiots trying to chip off a souvenir, it seems

but there is a pathway that leads you all around it, with benches here and there, and as we had paid dearly to see it, we began to walk around

 we walked along, trying to keep to ourselves, fighting the eternal wind, and every so often, turning our heads to look at the stones

and as we walked, the stones gained in significance and the people disappeared  

 and the remnants of the ancient circle slowly took shape

 with each step, the stones seemed to grow in size

 and as we came full circle on the path, so too did the stones and the iconic vista

the crows taunted me, this one especially

he flitted from stone, to stone and would sometimes sit for a while, calling out to us

"na-na, na-na, na, na"

it was easy to ignore them though - easy to ignore everything really, and slide into the wonderment of why, of how, and of whom

and then i was so glad we went... so very, very glad

from there we went to old sarum, the older settlement, high on the hill, over-looking the salisbury of today

old sarum was built 200 years prior, and when the decision was made to build a new cathedral down in the valley, the stone from the old was used... today, only the footings of old sarum remain, laying out the design of a castle and a cathedral that once carried great significance, built by william the conqueror...

it's so hard to find perspective when talking about not just hundreds of years ago, but whole centuries gone by

we just don't have that history here

but there is something so comforting about it, to know that in this world full of doom and gloom and war and squabbling, that life goes on

 we're home now, safe and sound

a little jet-lagged but i don't mind so much - for now, it's a tangible reminder i was somewhere

with yard-work, and house-work and work-work all crowding in i know i'll be back to normal in no time

i have many more posts i still want to do about our trip, many more things to tell you - if you aren't too bored with it yet

 i want to post more often... the dilemma is, i won't be able to respond to your comments very well

(i know, i know, not like i do now, but i do try!)

so if you don't mind, then i'll give it a go

in the next few days i hope to get around to all of you that have blogs and see what you yourself have been up to these past five weeks, and enjoy reading your stories

and then tell you a few more of my own...

lessons learned

 coming  to the end now and i realize how little i have posted, and how little i have posted about what really has mattered to me...

the places we have been are as beautiful and awe-inspiring as can be but this trip has been so much more than that... so very much more... i think there are many more posts to come about this journey of mine, through space and time...

    

                i  have seen landscapes that have filled me with wonder and astonishment, 

    

    

    castles and cathedrals that we of the modern age would be hard-pressed to try our hand at...

                                         

   can you even imagine a bank that would finance a building project that would take fourty years to complete, let alone one hundred? 

     

          do you think there is one of us that would joyfully start something knowing it would be 

                                        completed long after we ourselves are gone? 

                                 

when we lost our willingness to take time to create something special we lost something truly great

                                       we lost possibility, and with it, our own potential

                             i have no lifelong project to complete, nor yet one to begin

           but each thing i put my hands to from now will be something that i will take the time it needs,

                                                       so as to be done my very best

          

                                                 to honour skill, craftsmanship, pride

my best work, whether it be a loaf of bread, a quilt, a warm, wooly scarf, or a triple layer-chocolate and raspberry jam filled layer cake with chocolate buttercream,because after all the things i have seen, out of all the things i have learned about this country, the thing i will come away knowing the most...

                                                         i have learned it loves cake!

to the sea...

the beautiful, wild and wonderful sea

heaving, thundering, rhythmic... changing colour as it moves

these pictures are from cornwall... we were there just days ago

the finest rain ever - they call it "mizzle"

oddly enough, that's the colour of the painted breakfast room at a b&b we stayed at, weeks before in scotland - I asked...

mizzle...  i called it "water in the air", too fine for rain, too much for mist

i actually didn't mind it so much, except you can get awfully wet, awfully fast

cold, wet, wind - just what you'd expect for his time of year

we walked on the beach, around the headland, facing the wind and spray full on

cornwall is not for the faint of heart

i realized as i gazed around, the colours before me are my preferred palette, the colours of he sand and sea, the rocks and sky - i first learned them in the yukon, on marsh lake

i like how the mist makes everything seem to be out of focus - sometimes i think the world is easier to take if it's a little out of focus, a little less sharp around the edges...

the days are winding down now, we have only three left... thoughts are turning toward home, slowly it creeps back into the conscious

my mind is so full of all we have seen and done, all i have thought - the philosopher in me has been very busy... I have so much to tell you

but first, i have so much to pack!

dreams

                                                          a dream comes true...

               at eight years old, or maybe nine... certainly before ten, i dreamed of going to scotland

                      to a little village called tillicoultry, where somewhere around ninety-five years go,

                                                           my great-grandparents lived

   

                               at the foot of the ochil hills, nine miles east of stirling

                                               yesterday I walked it's streets

                                  a small little place that has loomed large in my mind

we wandered about, looking for the creek, or perhaps "burn" is the word i should be using

made my way to upper mill street, where I think at one time or another, very far back, 

even more distant relatives made their home - the house they lived in is gone now, replaced with another, but it was enough to just be in the area, to trod the streets and look on their hills

   rather than finding family homes, i contented myself with taking pictures of houses i liked

       and i knew this was "my place" when I stumbled across this sign outside of a pub...

                                                               love it!

                                   we also took time to visit the wallace monument

   

     

                                          william wallace, of braveheart fame

                                         the monument stands high on the hills, 

                    overlooking the ancient city of stirling, and it's surrounding fields

                               

   

                                                    scotland's freedom hero 

                           you can climb to the top of the monument, all 246 steps...

                           i didn't even get half-way up before i started feeling dizzy,

 the stairs being of the typical castle variety: rising steep and narrow, twisting round and round,                                  

                    with small slits that allow the wind to whistle and swirl all around

many deep breaths and some much-needed coaxing and support from marc helped me make it      

     all the way - can't truthfully say i enjoyed the view from the top but i was thrilled i made it

                                  freedom for scotland and it's people was his dream

                    climbing his monument seemed a fitting way to honour that dream

                                                        so, so, so glad i did it

                                                      dreams never forgotten

"i've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind."

                                              - emily bronte, wuthering heights