Friday, September 25
Wildcamp - Travel - Wildcamp
To Travel.
Definition: "To go from one place to another …..To advance or proceed"
By inference an act requiring physical movement from one position/place to another.
True, there's no rule to say that Wildcamps cannot be static. To remain at the same site for more than one night.
But mostly wildcamping is about spatial transition. The act of swapping one remote & lonely spot for a different perspective. Usually another remote & lonely spot. A daily change of place.
Or .............. perhaps that should be a change of perspective on life ?
Whatever - it makes no difference. The act itself suffices for many.
For me? Well......
To tap into the Great Unknown. Become one, once more, with the deep Om of life.
To touch, however fleetingly, that underlying rhythmic beat of energy. For so much of our lives unheeded as it throbs far below our everyday event threshold that is termed Living In The Real World'.
To sleep a night. Solitary & defenceless in some wild and inhospitable place. Remote, perhaps even uninhabitable for many.
To awake at dawn's approach. Mentally & physically renewed.
Early morning grumbling of sinews & bones, unaccustomed to the previous day's physical activity, quietening as the essence of At One with a natural life force, are sensed deep within one's self.
An unexpected deep sigh of contentment at ……
At..?
Well at nothing tangible really.
Except the act of being part of the Real World.
Breathing.
Sharing rainfall run-off with beck or tarn as it heeds the pull of gravity.
Wind veer caressing bare skin; Rain sting on cheeks;
The welcoming warmth of weak sunlight on a frosty morning.
The cool relief freely given by deep shade of rock's shadow at the height of Summer.
Another day greeted. Rucksack settled onto back for the hours of movement ahead.
The last act.
A final lingering glance backwards to the night's resting place. Checking for mislaid kit and signs of human presence? Or more a quiet & silent salute to a place now special in memory & time.
To travel.
No, not movement from place to place, towards some journey's end.
Merely an excuse to saviour stops along the way & touch, fleetingly, the closeness of the Natural World & Reality.
Until the next time.
Maybe I'm alone in silently greeting a wildcamp site on arrival; And on departure bidding a fond farewell. To a familiar friend who's presence I meet with from time to time? And from place to place.
Or then again ..... maybe not.
Perhaps I'm just weird?Labels: nature
Comments:
not weird at all. I have a habit of greeting and more often bidding farewell to a place. For me its making my peace with my surroundings and acknowledging the hospitality shown in allowing me to reside there for a while.
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Definition: "To go from one place to another …..To advance or proceed"
By inference an act requiring physical movement from one position/place to another.
True, there's no rule to say that Wildcamps cannot be static. To remain at the same site for more than one night.
But mostly wildcamping is about spatial transition. The act of swapping one remote & lonely spot for a different perspective. Usually another remote & lonely spot. A daily change of place.
Or .............. perhaps that should be a change of perspective on life ?
Whatever - it makes no difference. The act itself suffices for many.
For me? Well......
To tap into the Great Unknown. Become one, once more, with the deep Om of life.
To touch, however fleetingly, that underlying rhythmic beat of energy. For so much of our lives unheeded as it throbs far below our everyday event threshold that is termed Living In The Real World'.
To sleep a night. Solitary & defenceless in some wild and inhospitable place. Remote, perhaps even uninhabitable for many.
To awake at dawn's approach. Mentally & physically renewed.
Early morning grumbling of sinews & bones, unaccustomed to the previous day's physical activity, quietening as the essence of At One with a natural life force, are sensed deep within one's self.
An unexpected deep sigh of contentment at ……
At..?
Well at nothing tangible really.
Except the act of being part of the Real World.
Breathing.
Sharing rainfall run-off with beck or tarn as it heeds the pull of gravity.
Wind veer caressing bare skin; Rain sting on cheeks;
The welcoming warmth of weak sunlight on a frosty morning.
The cool relief freely given by deep shade of rock's shadow at the height of Summer.
Another day greeted. Rucksack settled onto back for the hours of movement ahead.
The last act.
A final lingering glance backwards to the night's resting place. Checking for mislaid kit and signs of human presence? Or more a quiet & silent salute to a place now special in memory & time.
To travel.
No, not movement from place to place, towards some journey's end.
Merely an excuse to saviour stops along the way & touch, fleetingly, the closeness of the Natural World & Reality.
Until the next time.
Maybe I'm alone in silently greeting a wildcamp site on arrival; And on departure bidding a fond farewell. To a familiar friend who's presence I meet with from time to time? And from place to place.
Or then again ..... maybe not.
Perhaps I'm just weird?
Labels: nature
not weird at all. I have a habit of greeting and more often bidding farewell to a place. For me its making my peace with my surroundings and acknowledging the hospitality shown in allowing me to reside there for a while.
Post a Comment
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