Here, it's all a shambles…
Hurlers. I wanted them to swirl, to lift me up with the wind, to dance like they used to. But all around them was snow. I gathered it up in my hands. I ran laughing and playing in the cold.
The dogs barked and I knew I was home.
Eventually, we climbed to the top of a boulder and our eyes found their way across the fields, the green and the ever-crowding trees.
I had strawberries and they tasted fresh in the age old land.
Earlier, I blogged telling you tall tales of how I was going to spend the afternoon walking around the lovely place where I live and see what inspiration struck me with. I planned to write, and walk, and indulge myself in the luxury sights that are contained at harbourside Cornwall.
And you know what? I did!
Taking routes I’d never known before it was such a pleasant experience to walk without haste in an environment I was unaccustomed to, yet everything around me was still so familiar. It was my own little adventure.
I had quiet.
I had solitude.
I had grace.
I was so inspired I wrote a little something:
The house was languid and fine, with a little bit of wear and tear around the edges. It was a large house, with black iron railings and an archway standing boldly before the pathway to the garden. A balcony, on the second floor of the house which passers-by could look upon if they so desired from the boundaries of the outside. It was a grand house, one that distinctly belonged to another time. It was old, with a great brass knocker on the door with chipped paint, yet it still resonated beauty with its old age.
Inspiration struck me with joy when I was avidly scribbling this down in my notebook.
Writers see. Writers see, and then they write. And that is what I wrote. And I’m embarrassed to admit I’m a little proud.
Who knows? Maybe one day that little passage will spark a novel, one day.
Have you ever been inspired by a certain place/landscape? I’d love to hear about it.
I woke up this morning, (relatively late) and realised I have the whole week … free! I have lots of research to do for my presentation in university, however this means I can do all of this at home – which ultimately means I have more time!
So, my idea is to go for a walk today and let my surroundings inspire me. To walk around, at a slow pace or fast – it doesn’t matter – in one of the most beautiful places in the country, I’m appalled at myself why I don’t walk and take in the scenery more (walking to work and looking out across the peaceful harbour doesn’t count). Living in Cornwall is a blessing. It’s just so beautiful and rich in heritage, regional identity and calmness. There is no rush here. It is rather unlike any other place in the country, I find. So, why not indulge in it?
Oh yes. I live here.
Even if I am going to have to walk in the rain.
As Owen Wilson says, “Paris Cornwall is at its most beautiful in the rain”. Right?
Actually it’s very muddy and I don’t have a hood on my coat. But oh well. I do have a pretty cowboy brooch fastened onto the collar, and that’s good enough!
So … it looks like I’m off to walk in the rain.
Off in the beautiful, gentle rain across the valleys and harbours of seaside Cornwall.
emilycharlotteould 