Reflections

Without compassion, we will never know anyone or anything, not even our own story. Too much judgment, too many ideas and attitudes will stand in the way of the fundamental principle that we are similar to, connected with, and part of everything else.
Deena Metzger

The most beautiful people we have know are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These people have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep, loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.
Elizabeth Kübler-Ross
(1926-2004)

Every moment of your life is infinitely creative and the universe is endlessly bountiful.
Just put forth a clear enough request, and everything your heart desires must come to you.

Mahatma Gandhi

(1869-1948)

At a loss for words at the moment... so am just reflecting quietly until I find them again, or until they find me.

Balancing act - a reflective retrospective

Yesterday started bright and sunny but it turned grey and heavy and then at about three o'clock snow swirled down in big feathery flakes and dusted everything pretty. I know that some parts of the northern hemisphere are having much more snow than they'd like and others less than they need but this was just the right amount. Not enough to stop things moving but quite enough to make it look lovely.

I noticed that the evening light is starting to last fractionally longer and although it was already pretty gloomy when I walked home and not the best for taking photographs, this is what the acrobatic statue on the canalside looked like, all dressed in white.  I actually like how it turned out. And the combination of not walking in the pitch dark, and the fluffy whiteness, really made me feel better.

As I wandered along I was thinking about how this walk, brief as it is, always has an impact on my day. Sometimes it reflects my mood and sometimes it lifts my mood. It never leaves me unmoved.

I looked back over a few of my previous posts and I was struck by how some of the walks I've recorded capture these reflective moments and the changing seasons - the everyday ramblings, routines and rhythms of my life. I like that.

This statue is something I especially enjoy seeing and respond to and depending on how my day, week, or month is going it reflects for me either joyful exuberance, the achievement of perfect balance, or the courage and staying power it takes to stay upright no matter what the universal elements fling at one. It's always beautiful.

I hope you've had a good week so far and, like me, are looking forward to the weekend...

Brief journeys - Wednesday walk to work

Wellies are the way to go!

Welcome October

I'm pleased to see you.

Brief journeys - How walking the city with my eyes closed helps me see it

So, the idea for this week is to close my eyes, point the camera randomly in any direction and take some photographs. I tried this out on my walk home from work yesterday and these are the pictures I took.

What struck me about these (apart from how blue the sky is - it was a really beautiful day) is how obvious it is that I live in a city. Strangely, I seldom take overtly urban images. A city environment is not somewhere I feel particularly at home, although there are many things about living in a city that I enjoy and, having done so for so long, I wonder now if I would truly be able to settle in a country location*. I like the accessibility that city living offers - to restaurants, to theatres, to cinemas, to shops, to travel from here to wherever else I want or need to be. But cityscapes don't really make my heart beat faster. I'm not a city girl at heart. And yet, I really like some of these images.

I like the starkness of the angles against the sky, and the shadows and reflections against city textures. I like how that huge building with the even bigger cranes has grown out of an enormous hole over the past two years (there's as much of it underground as there is above ground) and that I have been able to observe that process on a daily basis. I like that I am surrounded by a modern city that was also at the heart of the European industrial revolution and that the layers of history are evident in the canals I walk every day and the bridges and the railway lines I travel. I love that I can walk to my office most days. And into a huge bookshop on my way home if I want to. There's a lot to recommend it.

But what really makes this city living bearable for me is that which is not city. The details I usually seek out, which speak of what is beyond the city limits: the sky and the clouds when I look up past the buildings, the small patches of grass along the pavements, the trees and other greenery that are in the parks and line the canals I walk, or the sound and reflection of the water on the underside of a bridge...

What I need is a city, with the sea on one side and, preferably, mountains on the other. A green city. Anyone know of somewhere like that, that would make me welcome?

Happy Friday lovely ones!

♥

*I do honestly dream of living on a beautiful island or in a relatively remote spot near the sea but it would need to be attached to the outside world with a fast internet connection, a speedy and reliable postal service, and great travel links so that I could blog, browse, shop online and have my books and goodies delivered daily, and so that loved ones could easily get in to visit me and I could get out just as easily to them, or even to a city if ever I needed a shot of cityness. Oh. And a way of making a living that doesn't rely on me being anywhere geographically specific. What I do now relies very much on my proximity to people. Lots of people. That's my biggest hurdle so far to making the dream come true. So far.

In the meantime, my city and I are bound to each other.

Brief journeys - there and back to see how far it is...

a green and pleasant land

{click to embiggen if you'd like a closer look}

After my Sunday afternoon nap the sun was shining still, and so I decided to take a wander out along the canals towards the university campus and back. It reminded me of the title for this post, which is what my mum always used to answer to the question "why?" for a walk or drive taken for walking or driving's sake and not because there was a set destination at the outset. I often set out to go there and back to see how far it is... walking just as far as I feel inclined - usually to a bridge - and then looping round in a circle or, if I'm on the canals, turning back.

Sunday's path is familiar, and one of my favourite routes for a stroll. Despite the trains that woosh by every now & again, it's hard to believe I'm in the centre of one of the most industrial cities in the country and I love that. It's leafy and green and the sound of birdsong, children playing and the soft pock-pock of a tennis match waft on the air, along with the smell of rich wet soil, the deep waterways and honeysuckle hedges. Lovely.

There weren't too many people out on bicycles, actually not too many people out at all, so it was peaceful and relaxing. I chatted to a couple passing on their narrowboat, who slowed down and swerved to miss the ducklings, and are visiting from Worcestershire via 58 locks; a woman on her way to the botanical gardens, who's doing a post grad thesis on gardens in the East End of London (1840-1940), asked directions and then walked with me for about ten minutes before leaving the towpath; a fisherman with a bowl of wriggling pink worms who'd caught fourteen fish in his two hours on the bank, and a guy out jogging who said "nice skirt" on his way out and then slowed down to catch his breath and pass the time of day for a while on his way back. Nice guy. And he didn't ask me what I do. Loved that. He apparently runs twelve miles, three times a week and also loves that route because of how pretty it is. He liked that I was photographing the little plants growing against the railway fence and invited me to join him on his run should I ever feel inclined... He made me smile. Amazing how openly friendly people become (even the most reserved of Brits) when the sun is shining.

So, all in all, a lovely little journey. And just in case you're wondering: It's about three miles (just under five kilometers) each way to the bridge numbered 83 and back... Perfect for a gentle afternoon wander. And no, although I could probably do with the exercise, I'm not planning to start running it any time soon. Walking is definitely more my style.

Brief journeys - walk to work on a soft day in May

I love the soft days: summer-green trees, fresh gentle rain, air not too cold, sky not too grey, Canadian babies on the canal... It's a sweet way to start the day.

Brief journeys - my daily commute

I live in the heart of one of the most industrialised cities in Europe. At least, these days the economy is based on service industries, retail and tourism, but it's a city that was described in the 18th century as "the first manufacturing city in the world". Situated just south of the place recognised as the home of the Industrial Revolution, heavy industry was at the centre of the economy here.

In the 1760's a vast canal network was developed, which supported and aided the city's industrial growth by providing a transport system for raw materials and manufactured goods. Apparently there are more waterways here than in Venice!

Now, centuries later, I live near one of those same canal systems in the very centre of the city and walk along those same routes that the canalboats travelled to get to work everyday.

Door to door, it takes me about 15 minutes at a leisurely pace and less than 10 if I've dawdled around at home a fraction too long and need to speed it up a bit. For most of my working life, I have commuted by road and rail for an average of an hour or more each way. So this one of the things I am daily grateful for in my current lifestyle... I walk to work. I love that I can walk to work! It's good for me and it's good for the environment. What's not to love?

Over the past 15 years or so, massive regeneration has taken place in the city centre and the 18th and 19th century warehouses and factories along the waterfront have been converted into residential units, offices, shops and restaurants. There are new developments too but somehow the historical character of the place has been retained.

This is my route:I live just behind that Mailbox sign and cross the bridge to walk along the bank in the foreground. The Mailbox was once the central sorting and dispatch centre for Royal Mail. Now it's the home of the BBC regional studios and offices, luxury apartments (I don't live in one of those), a couple of chic hotels, and a great selection of shops, bars and restaurants.

Lots of residential and tourist narrowboats moor along the canals.

Newer buildings on the left...

This statue is one of many visual gems tucked in along the canal routes and is one of my favourites, just off Waterfront Way.

Beautiful big tree that hangs over the path and, opposite it, overhanging ivy against one of the original canal walls.

Nearly there. I go up the stairs on the right - back to street level - and my office is less than 2 minutes on from here.

I think it's a lovely route and considering where it is, not too removed from nature. The seasons ring the changes and I love the juxtaposition of foliage, water and urban features. Also, there are lots of birds that live on, or regularly visit, the canals including geese, ducks, gulls and swans. I'm not a city girl at heart, but I reckon that if I am living in a city, I like to live right in the city. These little reminders of nature just help to soften the edges and make it somewhere I am happy (for the most part) to be.

The path continues on under the bridge towards the University and beyond to the home of Cadbury's chocolate... But perhaps that's a journey we can take another day? You'd be very welcome to join me!