By ways less traveled

Today I have let the lanes lead the way.

I have trundled down winding roads with their high banks, glowing red with the red earth of Devon in search of the countryside that lives in my dreams and imagination.

I love these lanes, that have sunk into the land over the centuries, they seem to hug me and I feel safe and sheltered.

Their steep sides are a tapestry of flowers, moss and tree roots. The hedges and trees at the top are twisted and bent by the wind.

 There is joy in the quick glimpses of the countryside seen at gates and hilltops.

They are rutted and slippery with mud, there is often a line of grass down the middle and a tractor met coming in the opposite direction means courageous reversing and my breath held as we squeeze pass.

 

It was meant to be a wet windy day but the weather was kind and apart from one dramatic hail shower the countryside was lit up with that clarity of light you only get when the rain has cleared away.

My trust in serendipity led me to a quiet valley, snug amidst the rounded hills. There was a mossy bridge and a lively river so I went exploring.

It was a true Devon river, full and lively from the recent rain, peaty brown yet clear and sparkling. Leaning over the bridge I could see a mass of wild daffodils ‘fluttering and dancing in the breeze'.

They were growing all along the riverbank, shining in the sunshine amidst the new spring grass. They are paler than our golden garden daffodils and looked so dainty and lively I found myself smiling in delight.

 I followed a path, climbed down to the river’s edge and paddled up stream until I came to a mossy overhanging tree where I could sit and watch the world and disappear into my surroundings. I like to take the time to be quiet and still and to listen and look at all around me.

These are the moments for which I come on my travels, these are my moments of being.