It's a little bit like having a Golden Retriever on vacation. Goldens are terrific because they love whatever you have in mind for them; they want what you want; they wag their tails and pant with their tongues hanging out at every suggestion. This is what it is like traveling with this man who is my son.
It really came in handy yesterday when we were wet and shivering and he was little bit bus sick from weaving side to side in the double decker to Penzance. That wasn't fun, especially when we got off and plunged into cold standing water.
It also came in handy when the rain became a storm and we didn't have ponchos.
It came in handy when we didn't make it to St Michael's Mount because it was raining sideways.
This golden attitude also helped us today along the Coffin Trail. The Coffin Trail is a five-mile pasture walk from Zennor to St Ives. There are any number of ways to get yourself lost along this trail and if you aren't careful, you might turn left and end up on the cliff path, climbing boulders. Boulders are a very bad idea, because they are horrible to climb over. You almost always have a problem with them.
We began the trail at St Sentra Church in Zennor, where they have a highly ancient Mermaid bench and a Mermaid legend. The legend tells of how Matthew Trewhella fell in love with a Mermaid IN CHURCH and then went away with her, leaving behind only a puddle of sea water. (has anyone ever figured out how a Mermaid can get herself from a sea cove to the church vestibule WITHOUT LEGS? Hmm.)
The Coffin walk was remarkable today for its terrific weather after the rains. We gloried in the green fields, sweet cows, and two fairly frightening bulls (wherever there are cows, there will be bulls). We gave them a wide berth, but although they did not notice us, it felt like a close thing.
The smooshy watery mud patches surrounding all the granite stiles gave us pause. But I was hoisted over, and lifted over, even given a piggy-back-ride over one particularly lake-like spot. A firm hand reached back for mine at every turn.
I had never quite seen the Coffin Trail this soggy, but no matter how hard or how wet it got, this boy of mine plowed on through. He sang, too, and talked about things we hadn't had time to talk about. We met people both coming and going who became fascinated by this young American man who was so cheerful and welcoming. It made an impression on us all.
I often think about getting another Golden Retriever, like the sweet Hobbes we once loved and trained. He loved whatever we had in mind for him; he wanted what we wanted, and brought laughter to the table even when times got tough.
Rather like this man, who is my son.
See you along the way!
the SconeLady
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