Monday, May 27, 2019

Walk the Line

"I'm going to jump it," said my son.

"You're what?" said I.

"Jump it! I'm going to jump from here (indicating the giant granite boulder he stood upon) "to there," indicating another giant granite boulder which had odd angles to it, none of which were at all jumpable.

I flashed back, as mothers often do, to earlier years and jumps. 

"Well then," I said, "we're going to need a helicopter." It was our first full day together in St Ives, and I did not think I could face broken legs or necks.

There is a helicopter somewhere in the vicinity, for I have seen it rescuing other daredevils and well-meaning jumping beans. They also have a rescue boat, splendid and massive, and part of the RNLI. But as much as I like and admire the RNLI, I did not want to MEET them. So my son kindly descended his boulder, and landed on the safe path. 

We three have had some grand walks! The cliff path, including a left turn that took us high above the town and then down into the back way; the path to Carbis Bay, an up-down adventure filled with a Mediterranean-like sea, and darling doggies to add their own welcome; the walk up behind Tregenna Castle through the softened countryside, and a left turn into the grounds of Tregenna. Descending from that, one comes upon a forest of unimaginable beauty - soft, lush, quiet, divine. We've walked the Lelant trail all the way to Rosamunde Pilcher's former home, with its lovely garden and grounds and its tiny railway house and slipway, where she once waded and took the tiny boat on the way to Hayle. Enchanting, all of it.

They two are now on a walk to the Barnoon Cemetery, a cemetery you have seen here, and something nobody can ever forget. Overlooking the sea, its quiet presence serves as a reminder from those who would tell me, if they could, to make the most of my chance to love God now, as a foretaste of then. It's hard to ignore such a message.

And there are more walks to come! The Coffin Trail is tomorrow, with a real tour guide to show the way. St Michael's Mount hovers as a 'maybe', with the clock ticking and no one entirely certain how long all of this will take. But however long or short, it is all good and my sweet traveling companions delightful. I haven't figured out yet how to drag my feet to slow time down, just a little; but I'd like to. The clock is now my adversary.

See you along the way!
the SconeLady

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