There is a place I love, which I’ve been visiting for over 40 years: a place where two rivers meet.
I come here to be still when the mainstream world is far too busy, too crazy, and too much for a gentle soul.
I’m not sure why this place, in particular, sings to me, and keeps calling me back. Unlike many other places, this scene has barely changed in my life. Of course, the colours in the landscape alter from one season to the next. The hedgerows are taller and more dense, and some trees have grown where others have fallen. The bridge has been rebuilt a few times. Otherwise, much is the same.
Sitting quietly by the bridge, I see my 13 year young self riding a bike to this spot at 5am on a summer’s day. I brought my son and daughter here, when they were children, to play on this ghost-road in the blazing sun.
Here is where curious circles appeared in the wheat and where three owls met Fen and me one star-lit night while looking for meteors.
Here is where I stopped just a few nights ago until dusk fell and a barn owl flew by with his head tilted towards me.
(Photo by Mark Fenwick)
I have clocked-up many earth years here since my first visit, alone and with loved ones, and yet every time I return, it’s as if no time has passed at all, and I understand why. When I’m here, I’m in the moment, and this always returns me to the free-spirited, ageless soul that I am.
Is there a place that calls you back again and again?