I think everyone's got spaces - spaces on earth that render them grounded, or connected or just plain awestruck - I've travelled around and found these places in different co-ordinates - I'm sure we all have. Places that set a pulse in our bodies or just issue an inexplicable yet ambrosial space in our minds. I think Beachy Head falls into the latter for me. On bad visits it's blustery, misty, freezing and pretty inhospitable yet all the same just so beautiful, and on clear and bright days just like today the sea stretches out and out and out and everything, everything feels in perspective. The sea seems perfectly still though you know it's teeming with life, England ends and the rest of the world is just out. there.
The photo above was taken on the 26th June - 3 weeks before dad died, we were on our way back from the hospice. The sun was still shining, I was sad, so unbelievably sad and bordering on desperate but something about Beachy head on a big, bright day, that evening... I could feel hope. That although everything else was heading down to unexplored and unhappy places there was still a big wide world of open possibility, of dreams, of you know - big. natural. beauty that no amount of sickness or loss is going to stifle.
I hadn't been back since that day
The colours so bright - the vibrations of these places are something I can't quite put my finger on - restorative? Inspiring? It's like words are too poetic and they don't really cut it. They're completely inadequate.
Anyway I think what I'm trying to say is when you find those spaces, whether it's Yosemite, a palace, a spot where the sunset is always inexplicably amazing. It could be your home, your allotment, a garden or woodland. -If you know where it is. Go there. Often. Revel in it. Live off it and enjoy it particularly if it's only 30 minutes away. If you leave it any longer for no reason you are an idiot.
Hear that amy. You are talking to yourself in the third person and you're nutso.