From the intern's cottage, it's a leisurely 20 minute walk down to the working farm, that is however, unless one takes the long way. At first, I thought the long way would be a short cut, so I hopped over the old wooden fence that separates our cottage from the pastures and meadows where the sheep typically can be found grazing these days. On the far side of the meadow, there is a slight opening in the underbrush -marking a path, which twists and turns through a forest of red pine trees, exposed roots, and lilly-of-the-valley that hug the edges of smooth-faced granite boulders.
 |
| Taking the long way home |
Mid-way through the journey, the trees become so dense that the sun's light is nothing more than thin shards of gold that occasionally pierce through a background of dark, primeval green. It doesn't take a great deal of imagination to feel as if you've just wandered into Middle Earth, and in truth, there is an odd sense of timelessness.
 |
| Animal Tales |
Stories from those who have passed this way before are etched in stone, and chapter by chapter they continue their tale until -as if by magic, you are standing once again in full sunlight at yet another meadow's edge.
Lesson learned:
Take the long way home ~ often!
No comments:
Post a Comment