Rock Carvings

If you follow the curves of the River Esk a few miles upstream from my home, you’ll find these water carved rocks. Huge blocks of iron rich stone, thoughtfully cut by the passage of water and time. The easiest softest route travelled over and over again as though the rain developed a habit.

Here in this soft dell the sunlight warms the stones which have been shaped and placed by mans hands. Taken from their earthen beds, split with wood and steel, and then laid into rows to rest once more.

These are the outer walls of Roslin Castle, perched high above the red river, built into the exposed rock bed. Ice and rain and wind have polished and picked at the man made structure, softening its sharp edges, rubbing it gently back into the earth. Yet most of the stones stay, content with the place they have been given.

Far below the river pours through its gorge, cut so deeply into the rock, that it splits the land clean in two. Molecule by molecule the water drops have scrubbed away the hard stone as though it was soft butter. Each splash follows the one before, along a route which has been carved by habit. The river rocks are smooth and polished by the repetition.

This crystal has been cut so that light dances in rainbows from its faces. Liberated from its dark home beneath the earth it now hangs from a holly branch, enticing us forwards along the path with its glittering light.

And here it is, the rock carved with wishes and dreams. Each mark begs for life’s pattern to be changed, cut into a new shape.
This is something we all have the power to do, if only we realise. The habits we follow, the routes we take with our thoughts and actions, can become deep habits, seemingly impossible to change. However if we focus our intent and cut a new route we can change anything we choose. First we have to notice what we are doing. We have to slip out of autopilot and begin to notice these habitual choices we make. Mindfulness can help us to become aware, so that we have a choice, rather than blindly following old habits. Drop by drop we can carve the rocks in our lives into smoother softer shapes, until it feels the way we wish.

Woodland Awakening

There’s a soft earthy path which winds away into the wild woods. We can walk together along its soft curves, deeper and deeper into the trees. Here we can escape our worried thoughts, moving closer and closer into a vibrant awareness of the sensory world around us. We can escape our busy minds and chose to reconnect with the stillness and truth of our bodies.

Our skin feels the warm touch of sunlight, and cool patches of shadow, drifting beneath the trees. While birdsong enchants our ears with its layers of sweet notes, spilling down from hidden branches. If we allow ourselves, our whole awareness can rest on these beautiful sensations, leaving no room for thinking and its troubled circles.

Wild garlic tickles our noses with its strong presence, calling us over and over to look down at its beautiful white stars.

Everything around us is infused with fresh lime green light, filtered by the baby beach leaves overhead. Even the waves of sound from the outside world, feel fresh and soft in the heart of the wild woods.

The forest floor reaches up towards us with her soft green fingers, uncurling themselves towards the sun. They are awakening after a long winter sleep.

Between the ferns, the tinkle of bluebells calls us ever deeper into nature, and into our senses. Blue bells filled with light, swaying in a soft spring breeze, help us escape from everyday thoughts and distractions. If you listen you will hear the tune, calling us away from the distractions of the world, and back into connection with the earth.

Waves of flowers are waiting to break on the soft woodland banks, like spears of blue asparagus. Life is awakening in the wild woods, and we can choose to hear its call and awaken too, escaping from the sleep of a disconnected life. Our bodies are the best routes back to ourselves, and the feeling of being alive in this moment. Will you follow me, and escape back to yourself, deep within the heart of spring?

see more photos about escape at the weekly photo challenge.

Burst of Wild Garlic

Starlight blossom dances in the wild woods.
Spring sun glitters
Through it’s shockingly lime leaves.

Tuesdays Edinburgh – Around Paisley Close

Today’s collection of Edinburgh photos are from around Paisley Close, on Edinburgh’s Royal Mile, or High Street. Despite the fact that this area had some of Scotland’s worse slums back in the 19th century, nowadays it’s all very pretty and rather upmarket.

Paisley Close was the site of a disaster, in 1861, which saw two, 250 year old houses collapse completely. The falling masonry crushed to death 35 people who lived here. This high number was due to the chronic overcrowding which was prevalent in the slums at the time. When the firemen approached the rubble to begin clearing it away they heard a young lads voice shouting to them. “Heave away lads I’m no deid yet.”

The tragedy and survival are remembered in the stone carving above the archway into the close. I always think about our human capacity to survive despite the world tumbling around us whenever I pass by. The McIver boys frail human voice echoed through the piles of destruction and pulled the firemen onwards towards an eventual successful rescue. Neither gave up, and as a result something precious was saved from the heart of terrible loss.

This precious gold which we can uncover from the heart of our own deep losses, sometimes adds beautiful highlights to an emotional landscape which may have been painted grey by grief. I find this is good to remember whenever I feel despair sweeping darkly through my life. Choosing to be mindful of life even in the midst of death or loss can help to bring us back to a balance between the two.

Sand Patterns

Twice every day the water of the sea runs her fingers through the sand, leaving tell-tale patterns. These repeating patterns display in clear sight some of the hidden energies within the water. Everything the water touches is changed in some small way by the interaction, but often we can’t see or don’t notice.

On this stretch of sand the sweet fresh water of a stream carves a channel into the sand each day. It’s pattern and shape reveal the flow of the energy running from the land into the salty waves. Twice in the day it’s pattern is lost, washed away into the body of the sea, unneeded as the ocean licks the stream bed in the rocks above the tideline. Yet it’s shape persists as the moon driven tides surge and fall in their own steady patterns.

Here the firmly held shape of sandstone rocks merges into the shifting free grains of sand, with no clear edge. The energy of the waves rubs gently but persistently at the rocks edges. The green seaweed holds onto water for a while, after the rain falls or the tide drops. Slowly the water is released, leaving trailing patterns running from the rock into the soft sand. Every drop merging back into the body of the ocean.

Just like the water, we leave patterns and trails around us as we move through the world. Sometimes we have repeating patterns which flow from us over and over. Patterns of action, emotion and thought, filling the spaces around us. These patterns in turn touch and effect everything they come into contact with. They flow into the lives and worlds of others, sometimes unnoticed, unseen, unrecognised, and yet powerful.

All of us have an effect on the world and those in it, even when we say or do nothing. Silence makes its own patterns and soothing shapes. Stopping for a while to see if we can notice any of the clues around us can in itself re-shape the patterns around us. I always feel a little different when I have slowed down and taken the time to look at what might be unfolding around me. Mindfulness brings me into a deeper recognition and connection with life itself.

You can see more photographs of patterns at the Weekly Photo Challenge.

And more photos of beaches at Ailsa’s Where’s My Backpack Challenge.

The Golden Hare

Listen closely and you’ll hear the song of the Golden Hare,
Pouring on moonbeams down mountain paths,
Dripping in golden drops across dawn.
The mountains mysteries are birthed in its notes,
As natures wildness pulses through the veil,
Tumbling carelessly down into the soft Glens.

Tuesdays Edinburgh – Victoria Street to The Grassmarket

For this weeks taste we are firmly back in Edinburgh’s Old Town, having a close look at the old highrise buildings around the Grassmarket. Castle Rock broods watchfully over this broad paved area, which was the site of the main cattle and horse market from 1477 till 1911, and one of the city’s public gallows. There are lots of tales of the many infamous hangings which took place here over the years.

It was always one of the poorer areas of town, and was dominated (still is) by rows of public houses. People lived cheek by jowl in cramped apartments, without modern plumbing, and they would throw their waste out of the windows into the streets below, to the cry of ‘gardyloo’.  The phrase is the Scottish rendering of the French ‘Garde a l’eau’, ‘watch out for the water’. It’s claimed that this is where the word loo comes from.

This phrase was still heard ringing around the streets of the old town as late as the 1930′s, as many old homes still had no indoor toilet. I can only imagine the smell….you can still see old iron hoops on the walls of some buildings, which were used in earlier times to tie pigs to overnight. The pigs were the earliest form of rubbish disposal in the city.

The Bow Well was the first well head installed in Edinburgh’s old town in 1674, bringing fresh clean water to the people. Its drinking fountain bears Edinburgh’s coat of arms, a beautiful maiden and the unicorn she alone can tame, either side of the castle. The Latin motto of the city, ‘NISI DOMINUS FRUSTRA’, translates as ‘Without God everything fails’.

Thankfully this area of town is now more upmarket, and its pedestrianized heart is home to lots of nice places to eat, and drink. The air smells fresh, and you will be pleased to know that the plumbing has been brought up to date.