Winter Silence beyond South East Cabin

We had to go outside, move and walk through the mushy wet snow. Or what remained of a missed morning whitened by unexpected snowfall. A missed morning, indeed. I found myself lost in an entanglement by upsetting intransparant administrative procedures. But this uncreative paperwork plus mailing and phoning has to done. If you don’t succeed in doing it properly - and it is never explained how and why - then new, bigger problems will rise...So if you want to sit down and rest in a carefree way, stand up, go for it and engage yourself in wisdom and with in- and foresight. “That is definitely beyond your capabilities,” She would remark. But we both know how difficult it is to do your Unpleasant Things in a serene non-neurotic way. As Young Septuagenarians we realise that it is no use to yell, yammer and  moan under the lashes of destiny.

So we had to get out and let the cold wet wind blow the cobwebs away. And once you move down to the Riverside, see the snow on the reed, hear and see the Beech Finches swarming around, you begin to feel better. We greeted the fast streaming Peacevalley Brook, the Cormorants Stone, deserted, the wet grey sheep standing a bit forlorn on their besnowed pasture and we passed the Fishers Cabin at South Gate. And beyond we strolled, breathing, taking photo’s. “What are you doing there?! That will bring nothing, no light , no perspective, no focus…” Oh yes, but I’m opening myself up for meeting the Tao of the Riverside walk. Here comes His Serene Highness, with his Silly Red Ronnet on his Bearded Head. And there at the Turning Point, on a streambreaker - beyond South East Gate, the ever streaming river opened up Space, Time into a Wide Unknown Universe of Winter Silence