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!