In the Moment

My spring odyssey across the American southern states, up and around the east coast to Campobello Island, New Brunswick, and of a flight to explore the Lake District countryside has my writing cup overflowing. Still, I am slightly lost this morning. How can I hold on to the feeling of absolute immersion into living in the moment? Only my decision each day to the direction, the road, and the stopping places I felt like experiencing . . . it was a rare opportunity. Exhilarating. Calming. And grounding for a writer closely connected to the spirit of landscape. Oh, to walk in the footsteps of William Wordsworth, Carl Sandburg, and Eudora Welty, to internalize the sounds and views that informed those unique voices.

So, back to this morning . . . scrambled egg, juice, bike ride, and I’m at my desk. I lingered too late to see the deer family on Frost, was intrigued by the tethered pony on Hemingway, tackled the Faulkner slope with tires needing more air, and stopped on the stairs to my desk to look at a few of the photos in Pilgrimage by Annie Leibovitz.

It is my choice to surround my life with small journeys, books to revel in, writing early, and writing late. Is this the everyday version of living in the moment? True, I must balance in regular life activities. After all, I did need to do laundry even on the road. But, my odyssey steadied the foundation under my feet so I can stay focused. My writing life is living in the moment, spreading my thoughts and stories out through my fingertips, writing by the seat of my pants.

Travels With Beatrix

The black ink lines are razor-sharp, thick, thin, with subtle turns, details illustrating a story. The gallery in Hawkshead displayed the stunning, original art inspired by the landscape outside. Rabbits, ducks, mice . . . add soft watercolors and an enchanted world appears for children to get lost in.

The young in heart can get lost in Beatrix’s vision for that landscape, too. The character of Peter Rabbit enabled the talented artist to tell a story to last for generations—the story found in the Lake District in England.

A mere traveler through the Lake District last month, I was overwhelmed with the achievement of an unmarried woman at the turn of twentieth century, armed with pen and ink, using art and children’s story to set aside the landscape and the fell farming way of life. Beatrix Potter bought farms surrounding her beloved country home and donated over 4,000 acres to the National Trust. Today the Lake District National Park preserves the country life she honored and the beauty of land huddled around mirrored lakes, velvet green hills, howes after fells. Stone walls wandering onward, gentle brooks still flowing, and the baaing of sheep grazing on . . . I looked for bunnies and saw a new family of ducks floating by. I heard the quiet and felt the soul of Beatrix.

My late spring odyssey will be with me always.

A Word To Live

odyssey