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  • Writer's pictureCrone

How strange it is

Meeting that old oak was just one of the wonders of my walk in the woods. Actually, these trees were on a golf course, but never mind.


How's about this chappie?

I liked it so much that I did the selfie thing again.

Lordy, lordy, I must have been feeling happy.


And, at home, Son of Bob showed himself to Leanne. Mrs Bob came when I whistled. The jay visited. I watched Mr and Mrs B protect their baby and - on various walks - saw crows shepherding their youngsters about.


All is well with the world.


But not with me. The old inside hollowness opened up unexpectedly. Sure, I haven't been sleeping well since the car thing (still not resolved). It's probably that.


I try so hard to hold on to the hare that rested near me, the swifts spiraling round me, the bats on that magical night, the kindness of friends and strangers, the rambunctious aliveness of the world in spite of human depredations, my health, my incredible good fortune in so many ways... and yet my heart is this lonely thing surrounded by a deep dark emptiness. It beats and the echo reverberates in the hollow halls of existential angst. [A bit overblown, don't you think? - Ed.]


WHY is it like this??


I think of the lines Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote when facing his crisis of faith:


And my lament Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent To dearest him that lives alas! away.


Oh! That poem has ALWAYS spoken to me... for me.


In another poem, "Carrion Comfort", he writes:


Not, I'll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee; Not untwist — slack they may be — these last strands of man

In me ór, most weary, cry I can no more. I can; Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.


I can... what?


Oh, expect that on another day, the tide will have turned again and I will be out among the trees feeling connected. I will be celebrating light and life and all the other things that make my spirit sing.


Another day.


This is what hope is. A silty taste. A dried leaf. A broken twig. An empty nest. The bare skin of a mangy squirrel.




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3 Comments


maplekey4
Jul 01, 2023

Good post. Good photos of you and the trees. Your thoughts, experiences, Manley Hopkins - all helpful and hopeful x

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maplekey4
Jul 04, 2023
Replying to

That counts xxx

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