Back story:
The whole story is probably too long and too small, and much of it happened within my own head, to tell, unless we had a cup of something warming, with time on our hands. But as I was leaving Bulla moving towards Bendigo, last Monday morning, maybe 7am, a few km. down the road i came at the bottom of a valley in the road, to a small blue-stone bridge just two lanes wide with a narrow approach on either side (with no walking access). It would have been a pleasure to walk over, except that there were two lanes of traffic travelling at speed across it, one in either direction. It might have been easy enough to get a big enough break in the traffic latter in the day, but i had got up early to get on the road, to cover some distance that day. So i started looking for ways to get to the other side… the creek at the bottom looked deep (& i was to find that it was in fact called "Deep Creek"), the stone bridge was high, but seemed to have a ledge of extra stone jutting out 1m just below the top, but on finally getting to it, with the idea of shimmying sideways across the bridge on the outside edge, i saw that the stone on that ledge was cut at 45 degrees so water would fall off. I could imaging my boat shoes doing the same, with no other good hand holds apparent. This next hour was truly an adventure, and a lesson for me that I will look back to.
 |
Look round about, and up and down, and such,
and follow ways that have a chance to work.
And if you see it can't help very much,
turn back, turn back, don't just keep on, or lurk.
I guess there might be ambiguity,
in that word "lurk" - it's not all bad you know
(I think it all depends on what moves me..
it's hard to quite explain, but it will show
in where my eyes go to, between each step,
and how I be within, as I step out.
If I am running from something that's kept
on haunting, scaring me, my fear will shout
down all the gentle whispers come to aid,
or thread's invisible, that must be felt
(I s'pose it matters whose thread has been laid,
for me my great, great,.. grandfather has knealt
and laid the thread himself, with care and hope),
and there's the other option: moving to
a goal or future, brightens, doesn't dope
you out to what's about and hap'ning, who
might help, or know more of this very place.
The fun that's come from just one hour or so
of doing this, might grow, and even trace,
its roots back to a nursery tale, and go-
ing with creative care across a space,
but ready to go back to "solid ground"
and start again, in other words re-trace,
while looking steps ahead. That's what I've found.
|
No comments:
Post a Comment