This is the first post on my poor neglected blog since being in the UK for two weeks and being back home now for a whole week.
What gives? I ask myself. Why are you not writing, sharing, expostulating, regurgitating all that you experienced and all the ways you were inspired? What kind of blogger are you?
Today I think I came up with the answer.
It seems that there was a part of me that was absolutely starving: starving for views, starving for change, starving for new faces, foreign money, eclectic food, trains, buses, roundabouts, newborn lambs in fields of flourescent rapeseed, a cup of hot tea, and structures that were built more than 300 years ago.
It seems I was starving and so completely empty that everything I took in has stayed there, comfortably resting in my sensory memory, warm and content.
I experienced enough to refuel my spiritual tanks to almost full, and enough visuals to spark vivid flash backs of scudding clouds, rapidly changing light, and the only sound being that of a strong sea breeze. But it was apparently only enough to feed what was hungry in me, with not much left over to share.
There is no desire to write about my experiences, or the thoughts and story lines that came to mind while trekking an elevated Scottish meadow. Strange, that. I guess I need it all to stay with me for now, to simmer and seep into a deeper place of understanding.
I have about 500 photos, some of which are shown here, but even these I am keeping close at the moment. It will be interesting to see what bubbles to the surface after some more processing. I’m sure the stories will come.
It’s great to be home!