” How do geese know when to fly to the sun? Who tells them the seasons? How do we, humans know when it is time to move on? As with the migrant birds, so surely with us, there is a voice within if we would only listen to it, that tells us certainly when to go forth into the unknown. ” ~ Elizabeth Kubler -Ross
A local friend of mine told me the other day that he’ll be moving at the end of the month. He is leaving Cornwall to be closer to the family he has left. Having been born in Cornwall, he is what you don’t often meet here, a true Cornishman. His words are of those of acceptance, but they are tinged with a sadness that I can almost feel.
We have talked at length about Lanhydrock, a place very familiar to him and his lively stories have made a place already special to me, even more memorable.
Last week John and I walked into Lanhydrock from a new direction. We parked at Respryn Bridge and wandered down a long tree-lined road that once welcomed carts and carriages and the first automobiles. I thought of my friend as we enjoyed the fresh beauty of our long-awaited spring weather. The sun came and went as we walked with dark clouds shadowing us at points along the way before retreating without even a drop of the rain I thought might come.
After hearing me talk about distance running not long after we met, my Cornish friend shared a bit about his running days … telling me of a time when his feet knew the way to all the best paths around Lanhydrock. It will be impossible not to think of him on days like the one we had even though his season of running has passed and his time in Cornwall is at an end.
I imagine I will see him there from time to time in my mind when the weather shifts as it did with us. I’ll think what a fine day and suddenly he will be there, on the path in his running shoes with no need for walking sticks … moving easily in a place between the past and the future.
Safe travels, my friend.
Exquisite words and photographs. I’m sure your friend would be touched indeed.
Thank you, Sarah for your kind comments and for still stopping by GOTJ. I know you have loads going on in your life and I appreciate you taking time to comment.
Lovely pictures,sad story.Glad it’s not you that’s leaving as we would miss pictures
I’m certainly not ready to leave Cornwall, James and I’m so pleased you liked the words and images.
Your images tie in so beautifully with your writing especially those of John seemingly walking away. Lovely..
At my age I find I am best viewed from behind and slightly out of focus Cheryl 🙂
Not true at all, Mister! 🙂
Thanks, Cheryl. As for John “seemingly walking away” … he actually was walking on. He has to walk on or he’d be stuck forever waiting for me to take one last shot. I don’t plan those walkaway moments, I just catch them as they occur. 🙂
You hit another one out of the ballpark Elizabeth. Thanks.
You are too sweet, Lani. Thank you.
Lovely poignant story and gorgeous evocative photographs to accompany it. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you, Valkrye. I’m glad you enjoyed the story and the photographs.
I love that your emotion is so…clear, you know, like the true, clean ring of real crystal? I can feel just as you feel, as I am reading this. It is not often writers can do that. Sure, writers make us laugh, or cry, or even angry; but it seems rarer, to me, to find a writer that transports you into the moment. Thank you for the walk and the introductions.
Also, so glad you snap pictures. I so love the UK landscape. Good job finding 30 seconds of sunshine 😉
Ah Leah, you don’t know how happy it makes me to know that you feel as if you are there with me based on what I’ve written. It is always a goal of mine and I am never sure if I’m successful unless someone tells me, so thank you for that.
you are welcome. it is such a neat experience to read your writing. i wish i actually were there, so i’m glad you can provide the next best thing 🙂
Thanks, Jael. I can’t take too much credit. The area is so gorgeous that all one need do is frame the image in order to best showcase it and click the shutter.
Hugs, Hay! I’m going to slip into my running shoes in the next day or two and try to do a bit of distance running again. I’m sure I’ll be thinking of you when I’m tempted to call it a day too soon.
Beautiful photographs, Elizabeth! Thank you for taking us on you and your friend’s journey.
Such gorgeous photos! I hope I get there someday. Thank you.
Elizabeth, I’m so happy to see your photos and to see that the sun does sun! the National Trust Gardens are a gift.
Your blog brings up some not oft expressed feelings about having to say good-bye to friends we make as adults – and especially as adults in a new home.
When my friends and I talk about relocating we often admit that we are reluctant to make that move because “it will be so hard to make new friends.” I want to believe that that’s not true. What are your thoughts? You may have addressed this in one of your earlier blogs before I was a fan of yours :))….
Again thanks for the photos.
What a magical place…just beautiful! Thank you for sharing your gorgeous photos and your friend’s wonderful story. God speed to him.
Beautiful!! Thank you!