Zero Day Musings from Anglesey Island

Day 9: Zero Day in Beaumaris

 

The World is Crazy, But…

I can’t specific how a lot our ocean stroll has refreshed me. Our world feels noisy. It’s an excessive amount of. Too a lot, I let you know! And but I hunt down the noise. 

I really feel bored and uncomfortable with silence. So I fill it with clips and reels and podcasts and information and television and actions and fear and “true” tales of individuals I don’t know and who don’t know me and I attempt to type by what’s true and actual and good and what’s trash and and and…

Then I get to stroll an ocean path. It’s too good. 

The Gritty City

It’s right here, too. The noise.

Part of the Wales Coast Path takes us by gritty industrial areas. From sewage therapy crops to massive smoke belching factories. From metropolis streets full of jostling automobiles to air crammed with the sounds of grinding equipment and excessive velocity passenger prepare horns. 

The ocean entrance walkways exiting the commercial areas don’t actually present welcome nature views. Instead the scene is crammed with amusement park rides, flashing arcade indicators and cotton sweet (“floss”) stands. 

Yes, we want factories. Fun parks are…enjoyable. But …

Nature is Restorative

When we lastly get to the unpopulated coast, we each notice after a bit that it’s blessedly quiet and delightfully contemporary. Grass and breeze and salt sea air. Dirt. Real, contemporary grime. And the rhythmic calling of seagulls. Are they laughing? Crying? Both? Cah haah cah haah cah haah

It is so nice to be out on the path. The sights and sounds of the gritty metropolis behind us are absolutely a contemporary phenomenon, proper?

Smudge and Smell/Seared and Bleared

I believe again to a poem I studied at The University of Wales in Aberystwyth in 1983.

The following traces from that poem may have been written in the present day.

“Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with commerce; bleared, smeared with toil;

And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s odor: the soil

Is naked now, nor can foot really feel, being shod.”

The date these traces had been written? 1877. Things change and don’t change.

The Beautiful Bent World

But the poem doesn’t cease with that gloomy part. Actually, it begins with pleasure. And it ends with hope. Here you go.

God’s Grandeur by Gerard Manley Hopkins

“The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;

    It gathers to a greatness, just like the ooze of oil

Crushed. Why do males then no longer reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

    And all is seared with commerce; bleared, smeared with toil;

    And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s odor: the soil

Is naked now, nor can foot really feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature isn’t spent;

    There lives the dearest freshness deep down issues;

And although the final lights off the black West went

    Oh, morning, on the brown brink eastward, springs —

Because the Holy Ghost over the bent

    World broods with heat breast and with ah! shiny wings.”

Take a Walk and Breathe it In

Today I discovered a journal entry from a former hike in Wales. I had requested our taxi driver if he ever obtained uninterested in ocean views. He responded that he realized he wasn’t even seeing the ocean anymore. Too busy excited about work and duties. 

So he had made a follow of strolling on an ocean path as soon as every week and simply respiration all of it in. 

The Dearest Freshness Deep Down Things

Walking is nice. Daily strolling is usually higher. Stopping and ingesting within the peace and appreciating the miracle of creation? Good. Just too good. Here’s to new morning mercies. 

Today I submit footage of locations which have refreshed us with their magnificence.

 

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