Tag: Nature’s Teachings

Grasmere, Ed’s Route and Dove Cottage

Grasmere, Ed’s Route and Dove Cottage

img_6817The intention was to follow Ed’s Route. Ed is a friend that outlined a beautiful route through the mountains near Grasmere. He warned that it was curvy, single-lane and steep but well-worth the drive.

My friend Maria and I had visited Long Meg stone circle that morning and asked the SAT NAV system in the car to choose a route to Grasmere so we could then follow Ed’s Route he outlined on the atlas.

It had snowed earlier and the route the NAV system took us on was over mountains. The higher we climbed the more snow we found but luckily the roadway had been salted and was clear. But as I drove I knew Ed’s Route–the single-lane route up steep, winding roads–was not a good idea. The probability they had been salted was low. So I pulled over and reprogrammed the SAT NAV system to go to Millam, a town near another stone circle we wanted to visit.

I should have heeded the sign: Do not follow SAT NAV but she kept telling us to turn left after we had passed through the town center of Grasmere. Who wants to argue with an electronic voice? Up, up, up and narrow for even a small car…and oh, yes…let’s not forget the curves and moss-covered rock walls. The darling system decided to take us on Ed’s Route after all. Even when we knew it, there was no place to turn around for a very long time.

About the time I expected to find ice and snow on the pavement, a driveway appeared and I carefully turned around and headed down. Oddly enough Audi drivers don’t seem to notice how steep and curvy and narrow the roads are in the U.K. But that’s another story.

_tsl9624After making it to the regular narrow road, I needed to park the car and walk. I pulled into a parking lot at a cafe and realized we had stumbled into William Wordsworth’s home. But oddly, it felt as if I had come home from a very long journey, not just the one up Red Bank’s road.

_tsl9649I just wanted to go sit upstairs, look out of the beautiful glass window at the snow-capped mountains and write. Somewhere in my memories I remember a most pleasant experience of finding peace while gazing out of a window just like the one at Dove Cottage.

_tsl9633We visited the gift shop and I spoke with the guy there and as he told me of Wordsworth’s time there, my heart opened and tears came. What the heck? I was dabbing tears from my eyes in a gift shop just hearing about his writing at Dove Cottage. It was more than sharing the same birthday as William but I’m not really sure what.

img_6806We ate lunch at the little cafe nearby and had a most beautiful view of the mountains. I was not inclined to leave Grasmere.

img_6825A stroll through town and I discovered a cemetery filled with yew trees and ancient markers. I stepped into the peaceful garden while Maria chatted with someone and when I popped back out, she was gone. I wandered around after texting her to let her know where I was. The energy of the place was peaceful and deeply nurturing. It teemed with birds and as I left a jackdaw lit within a few feet of me and allowed me to use my cell phone to capture a photo. They are said to be Merlin’s magical companions. There was magic in Grasmere, no doubt.

img_6843Wordsworth was my favorite Romantic poet throughout high school and college. His love of nature was what captured my heart. He and Samuel Taylor Coleridge hiked the mountains of the Lake District and along with Beatrix Potter birthed literature that remains some of the best ever written.

img_6835At some point in this life I wish to return to live near Grasmere for a time. Six months, a year and perhaps I could find inspiration that would allow future-classic writing, painting and photography to find a channel of expression through me.

_tsl9623Years ago when I visited the moors of Devon in the national park there, my bones vibrated with the land. I had never felt that kind of physical connection to a place before. In the Lake District it went beyond a physical connection to the spiritual realm of heart and mind. It was home to me, where my spiritual roots are deeply anchored.

img_6828Here’s the first and last stanza from Wordsworth’s Daffodils…one of his most well-loved poems:

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o’er values and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

……

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

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My friend and spiritual sister Maria and I in Grasmere.
The Stones Speak

The Stones Speak

_tsl9187Day dawned dark with news from afar;

Earth, water no longer sacred?

Money won—gods of greed and tar.

Now civil rights mired in hatred.

 

To my knees I fell, sobs escaped my lips;

Oh, my God! Has sanity been eclipsed?

 

_tsl9288Darkness gathered and shadows grew.

Hope dimmed, panic began to rise.

My mind raced, whatever can I do?

Darkness comes in golden disguise.

 

A voice then came through, so clear and so loud:

“Go to the stones and walk among the clouds.”

 

_tsl9141My grief and I put on our boots

And went out in the cold and snow.

We stood with stones in armored suits

And listened as the wisdom flowed.

 

“It’s time to wake-up and see the truth here.

None of this matters in five thousand years.”

 

_tsl9304The stones spoke—ages, wars went by:

Ancient wisdom, patience and trust,

I saw time make the darkness fly.

Peace grew strong, swords crumbled in rust.

 

“This is a moment in time, a heart beat.

Cry your tears, but don’t forever you weep.”

 

_tsl9099The peace of snow and ancient times

Enfolded me with grace and calm.

I walked along those Druid lines

And there I found the sweetest balm.

 

“Wake up and shine and know love is the key.

This world can heal and be one, you will see.”

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Magical Britain

Magical Britain

Dawn at Castlerigg Stone Circle
Dawn at Castlerigg Stone Circle

It is nearly 2 a.m. as I awaken here in the U.S. but my heart is accustomed to the beat of time in the Motherland. I would be on a rambling walk through the countryside by now in the U.K. The mists would be rising along the fells, sheep would be beginning to awaken. The sun would be low in the gray sky. The chill of the frosty air would feel so fresh on my cheeks.

Foggy dawn below Castlerigg Stone Circle
Foggy dawn below Castlerigg Stone Circle

For over a week I was immersed in the gentle beauty of England. Her mountains, rolling pastures, woodlands, lakes, ancient stone circles and kind people surrounded me and welcomed me home.

Snowy dawn at Castlerigg
Snowy dawn at Castlerigg

It doesn’t matter that I had been awake for twenty-three hours and am fatigued after a nine hour flight over the Atlantic Ocean and an hour flight to the Gulf Coast and am experiencing a time warp after journeying over six time zones. Every part of my being is awake and ready to roam among ancient stone circles or greet sheep as they chew lush grass that is permanently green.

Sunkenkirk Stone Circle
Sunkenkirk Stone Circle

I walked paths that Wordsworth and Coleridge walked, visited areas where Beatrix Potter wrote magical children’s stories and initiated conservation practices that helped preserve much of the area now known as the Lake District. If I allowed myself the freedom of regular roaming along the shores of the water and woods and mountains of the Cumbria, I am rather sure inspiring and enchanting words would pour from my pen in the style of Wordsworth and Potter.

Long Meg and Her Daughters Stone Circle
Long Meg and Her Daughters Stone Circle

Whispers of the Ancient Ones echo within as I reflect upon the otherworldly pilgrimage experienced with my spiritual sister and friend. Conversations with Companions from a weekend retreat, that closed the journey, still weave a web of light around me. My orange tabby Stanley lays in my arms as I write while my beloved Buddy dog is curled against me on the blanket. They feel the fullness and lingering energies of this most amazing journey.

Ancient Horn Beam Tree
Ancient Horn Beam Tree

Invasions by Romans, Saxons, Vikings and others have perhaps instilled into the collective unconscious of the people there a maturity of spirit, a way of being civil and gentle with each other and with strangers. Every person I met was helpful, generous, supportive and kind. I miss that kind of civility and maturity on this side of the Pond. Our nation is like a spoiled, young teen in comparison.

Applethwaite Village
Applethwaite Village

The individual journeys and experiences will be told over time but for now, in the afterglow of it all, I feel profound gratitude for the embrace of a land and people that welcomed me home as one of their own.

Maria and me in Sunkenkirk Stone Circle
Maria and me in Sunkenkirk Stone Circle

My heart beats in sync with the land through ancestral ties and already longs to return and feel the ancient stones vibrate their wisdom and the land embrace me as a daughter. From magnificent caves to snow-covered mountain tops, from villages much older than the country in which I reside and stone circles dating back to 3500 BC, I traveled the path of a pilgrim–open to hearing and learning the lessons given by magical Britain, my Motherland…home of my spirit.

Cave Spirit
Cave Spirit
The Ancient Ones are Calling

The Ancient Ones are Calling

_tsl8791It was nearly 4 a.m. when I awoke. I glanced up and Orion was shining through the skylight so I repositioned myself and laid directly under it. For over half an hour I gazed into the Hunter constellation and then moved downstairs for yoga practice.

_tsl8835I lit a candle in the cottage window and put on a playlist I enjoy and began my practice. The elemental energies of the hills, valleys, meadows and caves seem to fill the space as I opened myself to the beautiful spirits.

_tsl8700Afterwards I enjoyed a cup of tea and reflected on the wonderful hike yesterday in a bit of sleet with a few flakes of snow drifting around in the wind. My excitement and appreciation were deep as I was guided up a muddy hill to two sacred caves. The energies were so strong and the beauty exquisite.

After writing in my journal, I dressed for freezing, windy weather.

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_tsl8807Then I took a walk up the driveway to the tree planted near burial cairns. The rural, quiet, pastoral places of England call so strong to my soul. Here I feel so peaceful and ‘in’ myself and could see myself living here–I come alive here. The Ocean is home to me and where I find my work but if I must come up for air and walk on two legs, then I cannot think of a place that calls me more strongly than rural England.

image1Later my friend Maria and I drove up from Strattfordshire near Butterton to Applethwaite near Keswick. It’s near the border of Scotland and is called the Borderlands. It’s the Lakes District–the home and inspiration of William Wordsworth, a fellow birthday celebrant and lover of nature.

Wordsworth walked these mountains and enjoyed the magnificent scenery. They inspired his poetry that has been inspiration for hundreds of years. He is the romantic poet that most-calls to my wild heart.

img_6720Sacred places are such gifts to those who take the time to slow down and listen to their wisdom, their beauty. They don’t speak in words but in long sighs of the wind, in rippling water as it cascades over rocks, in snow as it softly falls against dried leaves, in magnificent vistas that cause us to sigh with wonder.

_tsl8685Let us remember to pause and reflect upon nature…and listen. The Ancient Ones are calling.

Enter the Light

Enter the Light

_tsl8194Can’t recall ever having as much fun diving as I did the past four days. I was thinking….so many dives….over 600 in the past 15 years….but these last ones have been off-the-scale fun. Why is that?

_tsl8205I’ve done cave and cavern dives many times, have been to beautiful ocean destinations…what’s different this time?

_tsl8199Perhaps it was having the opportunity to be with one other person, a fantastic guide, and experience the freedom to play in the water–taking time with light beams or formations of beautiful stalactites and stalagmites. Nobody rushed me or pushed me to move if I was engrossed with something that captured my attention.

Before we began our diving, I told *Daniel that my goal was to have fun and take photographs. I wasn’t interested in anything else. Play was my objective.

More than once while diving I noted how fun it was to be underwater, underground and have my camera kit with me. Not a passing thought but a real fire of playfulness within that ignited passion for the work I do.

_tsl8196The mornings were filled with clear water, diving into cenotes filled with magical formations and ‘working’ to capture their beauty through the art of photography. The afternoons were filled with processing images and realizing that I was indeed capturing the beauty I so deeply love and appreciate. It was a celebratory atmosphere!

_tsl8311There were no distractions. It was me and the sea whispering sweet sounds as I worked and celebrated the success of my endeavors. I’m an ardent perfectionist but even that part of my personality was deeply pleased with my efforts. Did hell just freeze over?

Connecting with the beauty of nature is why I get up in the morning. Through the arts of writing and photography I find the expressive pathway to share the magnificence of nature….of our water planet. The way I decide where to go is to simply listen with my heart. It always guides me true.

_tsl8212My heart always guides me to enter the light.

*Daniel Ortega Moran is based in Tulum, Mexico and is a wonderful person and dive guide. He’s a cave instructor as well…if you’re interested in learning more about diving underground.