Ang's Journal

This poem captures the feeling of hiking through the woods & suddenly realizing you are most certainly not alone...

It's not my track,
I say, seeing
the ball of the foot and the wide heel
and the naily, untrimmed
toes. And I say again,
for emphasis,

to no one but myself, since no one is
with me. This is
not my track, and this is an extremely
large foot, I wonder
how large a body must be to make
such a track, I am beginning to make

bad jokes. I have read probably
a hundred narratives where someone saw
just what I am seeing. Various things
happened next. A fairly long list, I won't

go into it. But not one of them told
what happened next -- I mean, before whatever happens--

how the distances light up, how the clouds
are the most lovely shapes you have ever ever seen, how

the wild flowers at your feet begin distilling a fragrance
different, and sweeter, than any you ever ever
stood upon before--how

every leaf on the whole mountain is aflutter.

This weekend has been somber, but the fact of the matter is, life does continue. To quote Watership Down again, "Would that the dead were not dead!" But life is still here & must be lived - to do otherwise does no honour to the dead & does great dishonour to the living. So.

Yesterday I distracted myself from the realization that I was missing Mark's funeral with relentless work. All assignments that are due this week: done. Bank account: balanced. Room: cleaned. Laundry: finished. I was a whirling dervish, never settling for more than five minutes, because every time I did so, I'd feel my brain start to close down ... so move, move, MOVE. It worked, sort of. I finally fell asleep around 2:00 AM.

Today, I went to a new church, Kirk'O'Fields Parish Church, which is right down the street from my hall. It was so much better than St Giles. True, it was tiny, & true, the congregation was small, but at least a dozen people introduced themselves to me, as did the pastor, & they have Bible study classes, & they sang hymns in English instead of Latin .... much better experience. I prayed for Mark's family & friends & felt genuine relief & healing in doing so.

Then, since the day was so beautiful, Selina (who lives on my floor) & I decided to hike up Arthur's Seat, the peak that totally dominates the eastern skyline of Edinburgh. We made it to the top, with assistance (& interference, depending on which direction we were facing) from the relentless wind. The wind is also responsible for my avant-garde hairstyle.


Caption: Mary Poppins would be in Norway by now.