This is a place of rowdy winds and gaping skies. There are few trees on these scoured hills so the wind howls and moans unfettered across the landscape. The sails of wind turbines peek over a nearby hill, spinning in the current. It is a place where footpaths appear to lead to the sky. A place of cloud-shadow, where giants throw their shades on the hills like cast off skins. When it rains, the sky glowers gunmetal and the hills fade into a blurred mist. In the darkness, the moon is a huge orange globe.
What are the spirits of this place? A brooding horse, forged from horseshoes, guards the threshold and the horses in the fields are aloof, showing no interest in passers by. Blackbirds lurk in the hedge, furtive with unseen fluttering. A quiet chirrup comes from something hidden in the long grass. Sheep complain in the distance. This seems a lonely place. A place where the inhabitants are reluctant to reveal themselves.
It takes time to settle into a new landscape. I had hoped that I would arrive and feel myself exhale into glorious isolation, away from the cares of the commonplace. But I should have known better. I’m unsettled, uncomfortable – not physically, but because I don’t yet fit. My first night is haunted by sleeplessness. I watch the moon become smaller, higher and brighter as it scales the sky and I long for dawn to come.
In my impatience to leave the world behind, I forgot that you must feel yourself into a place. It isn’t about the prosaic dos and don’ts. Those things are necessary, but they aren’t what’s important. What’s important is to come to terms with the essence of a landscape. We often assume our right of belonging. We may dislike a place, but we tell ourselves that is the fault of the place, not us. But there are places in which we don’t belong at all, and some that make us work hard for that belonging. I will be here only a short time, but it is only after I open myself up to it and let it know my intentions that it will decide if I’m welcome or not. I must meet it on its own terms to feel at home here.
Eventually, the land will begin to reveal itself to me. To give a hint of insight into its secrets. And it’s then, after a few unsettling days, that I discover this is a place of rainbows. Huge rainbows at the bookends of the day, that spring vibrantly from the land and span its hills. Thresholds of sorts, allowing a way in to the landscape. I discover that this is also a place of swooping swallows and chattering songbirds – the whirr of feathers and bob of tails. Where a robin serenades the dusk from a nearby willow and the bray of donkeys vibrates the morning. It is a place where the sky is lit up by a billion stars and where the wind sings an elegy through gaps in drystone walls and across the hills. This is not an easy landscape, but if I listen I will find my place in it.
A wonderful reflection, Andrea. Here’s to rainbows!
I rarely see them on the east coast or southeast… Then when I moved to New Mexico, the first day, as I was drinking in the energy of the place — I saw a rainbow. How could I think it was wise to leave? Wishing you a week filled with wonder. Hugs.
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Thanks Teagan, if only we could always read the signs at the time 🙂
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Really beautifully written! Perfect reflections for that time and those places…lovely!
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Thank you Bill.
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That’s a good point you’ve raised. In general, rather than cursing what we’ve been endowed with, we should find peace in the same!
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Thank you, so true.
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An evokative post with equally evocative images. Your words ring with truth inside of me. I often seek a deeper connection with the land, and to discover its mysteries in places where they seem hidden to me.
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Thanks Alethea, it’s very satisfying to have that kind of relationship with the land.
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Very moving, insightful, and honest reflections on place and connecting. It sounds like an opening has begun. I hope it welcomes you Andrea.
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Thanks Brad, I hope so too.
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Listening is a good start. 🙂
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As lyrical and spell-binding as ever!
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Thanks Bruce!
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Love those ears!!! :))
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They were a gift!
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So beautiful, Andrea, as always.
Change is always so hard, even when we know it’s a good change. It sounds like you are already at least starting to get comfortable. Glad to know you are “Settling”.
Thanks for a soothing, encouraging read. I really enjoyed this one.
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Thanks James, I’m glad you enjoyed it.
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‘Where the wind sings an elegy through gaps in drystone walls.’ The austere landscape you describe seems to bring out beautiful poetic writing. Thank you for this lovely ‘elegy’. No doubt the rainbow, the robin and the stars you mention are sent to cheer,
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Thanks Richard, yes, that was how I interpreted them.
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Your ability to evoke the spirit of a place is incredible. I look forward to each new blog post. Well done!
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Thanks Pat, much appreciated.
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Your writing is beautiful and inspiring, Andrea!
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Thanks Lavinia 🙂
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Andrea, what a brutally and beautifully honest description of this brooding landscape. I felt a little chillier just reading it. When we come to places like this, we wonder `how do people live here?’, but you’re right; we have to feel our way in. Well said. For me, those donkey ears were my invitation in. 😀
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Thanks Jeanne, yes, so true it takes time to know how to live in a landscape. The ‘ears’ I’ve now discovered are called Wilbour and Eddie 🙂
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Beautiful, Andrea. I think those little fellas with big ears are trying to welcome you. 🙂
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Thanks Jill, I think so too 🙂
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I think you have already found your place in this landscape! You write about it lovingly and beautifully.
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Thank you Jo!
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I always soak up your eloquent writing, Andrea. And this one really hits home, for I moved to a rural setting 16 years ago, and it took a full year of all the seasons to feel settled, welcomed. I don’t mean the people, I mean the mountain. It’s a fierce mountain with extreme weather, and it takes devotion and commitment to live here, and I wouldn’t trade it for anywhere in the world. This is what you write of, so beautifully, and I savored every word. When you make friends with the wildlife, notice them, acknowledge them–and it sounds like you have–the settling becomes easier.
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Thanks Jet, I’m glad that you’ve found your place in your world. I’ll only be here for a very short time, but I already feel more settled.
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Settling. Belonging to a place. Seeking the spirit of a place. Feeling at home or not at all. These are feelings so familiar to me, Andrea, that I relate 100 % to your gorgeous meaningfull post. Isn’t it strange that we feel sometimes immediately part of our natural surroundings while at other times it is the total opposite? I’ve always wondered about the vibes or spirits that make me feel at ease or uncomfortable.
As always I admire your prose filled with sensory details and your search for a life well lived. I hope that you belong to this place for the time of your stay.
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I can imagine how this resonates with you Evelyne, finding your place in a new country must be even harder. But you obviously did something right as you seem to be very well settled now.
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Although settled the theme of home will always echo my feelings. Once you’re gone from your familiar you remain in the quest for home. Not necessary negative but there is an awareness about it. Thank you for another thoughtful post.
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Thank you Evelyne.
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No need for comments!
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Thanks for not commenting Luanne 🙂 🙂
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LOL
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Are you on holiday or have you moved house, Andrea?
The land speaks to us and we respond… I’ve learned I am most at home in deciduous forests and open, small farm-land. Other places leave me unsettled, like you mentioned.
Love the donkey ears – that’s a great photo!
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Only on holiday Eliza, but already more settled. The donkeys were a gift 🙂
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Beautifully crafted Andrea. You touch on an interesting concept that I now recognize but was never able to identify: feeling at (un)ease in a new environment. Thank you. From a more mundane point of view, I also recognize that if I travel by car to a new place for the day, it can sometimes take an hour before I “settle”, because my mind and spirit have been so busy with the cares of driving. If I travel by train, I arrive rested and at peace, and virtually immediately prepared to embrace my new surroundings.
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Thanks Denzil, that’s an interesting point about the travelling, you get to move gradually into the new landscape if you can pay attention to it as you pass through.
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There ARE “Heavens” on Earth !! Lands, those are untouched by man. Beautifully expressed !
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Thank you Mohit.
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Thank you Bruce! You are an amazing traveler and nice to read your posts (y)
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I like your post 😊.
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Thank you.
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Take a look on my last post and follow me if you like it 😀.
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Gorgeous and powerful at the same time. Have you read the comments on my latest post about your writing? You should.
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I’ve just visited Cynthia, thanks so much for your support 🙂
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Lovely🌺🌺🌺
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Thank you!
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Wonderful reflections, Andrea. I have been thinking on many occasions that places can accept or reject us. I feel it physically.
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Thank you Inese, I definitely think so.
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First, the horse made of horseshoes is a marvelous creature. Your descriptions of gloom and darkness and not belonging create just that atmosphere. Discovering you are in a land of rainbows with birds singing felt like seeing a rainbow at the end of a stormy day. This is you writing at your best. Magnificent.
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It is an amazing sculpture; there’s also a sheepdog made of horseshoes. It certainly is a land of rainbows, I’ve discovered.
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I enjoyed reading that so much … it was like a beautiful meditation, and I loved the photograph of the donkeys – well, their ears anyway. 🙂 “… if I listen, I will find my place in it.” I will remember that on my travels and everyday activities.
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Thank you, the donkeys are fantastic 🙂
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I felt chill and menace at the beginning of your post but once I saw the donkey ears I knew the landscape would start to grow on you. But there are places which seem to push us away, where true settling is impossible.
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So true, I have settled into this place, but I know it isn’t a place in which I could live – not for any obvious reason, it’s just a feeling I get.
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I love your lyrical descriptions and the way you link them to your feelings. I recognize these emotions. It can take a while to find our place when we visit somewhere new, especially on holiday when we are eager to find enjoyment and relaxation.
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Thank you, it does take time to settle when you’re impatient to be settled.
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I hope you are getting more settled by now, Andrea. The geography looks so similar to here! Lovely writing, and I love those ears. 🙂
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I am Jennifer, the donkeys help 🙂
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“In my impatience to leave the world behind, I forgot that you must feel yourself into a place.” Beautiful, Andrea. Place doesn’t align so much with our expectations of it, or, sometimes, our comfort. I’ve experienced that unsettling, too, when I’ve moved from one place to another whose ‘feel’ (and often, culture) is very different. Sensing and feeling into it, we can begin to come to know it. Thanks as ever for your beautiful musing and photos. xo Jamie
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Thanks Jamie, we can indeed.
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I enjoyed this post so much that after I read it, I had to proclaim my love for it out loud. Now my family, the dog, and the jackdaws outside my window know all about it!
You write so beautifully, Andrea, and with such an original voice; so many surprises and gems within such well-chosen words and pictures. I adore the picture of the donkey ears.
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Thanks Sarah, I’m glad you shared it with your animals of place 🙂
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I can relate to these feelings, Andrea. I feel most at home on open, windswept places like you describe so beautifully here but feel most uncomfortable when I visit enclosed places where I can’t see the wide skies. Your writing is as poetic as ever and your photographs illustrate it perfectly!
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Thanks Clare, there’s a definite enjoyment in those wide open places.
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A poetically reflective post, Andrea…nature seems to be hunkering down under those ominous dark clouds…but as it clears, the rainbows appear and lighten the sky – and hopefully, your spirit will follow as it finds its connection to the place. Warmest wishes. xx❤️
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Thanks Annika, it is following 🙂
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Sometimes the beauty of a place is so beyond words that you just want to be a part of it. The good thing is if you try and you like the harmony you actually become a part of it as if you were never apart. So, enjoy your stay, Andrea. 🙂 Oh, and those ears are…just so invisible and shy. By any chance, are they waiting for you? BTW lovely pics. 🙂
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Thank yo Norma, they’re waiting for a biscuit 🙂
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Hehe!
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There is always something special about ‘difficult landscapes’ and I think your description of “place of rowdy winds and gaping skies” is just the type of place that attracts me 🙂 Wonderful writing and photos Andrea!
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I’m sure it would Randall, thank you 🙂
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Exquisite description and observation as always Andrea. How right that we feel we either ‘belong’ or we don’t and how we consider it is the place to blame, not ourselves. And I love you used ‘rowdy’, a good adjective not much seen or heard these days.
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Thanks Roy, rowdy can be good!
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Gosh, this is a wise and beautiful piece, Andrea.
You are so right about needing to find the right place, about waiting to see if we fit. But it is so wonderful when we do find the right place for ourselves.
I suppose wherever you are, you have your writing to make sense of it all …
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Thanks Francesca, yes, the writing always helps 🙂
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This is lovely. I suppose by the time we do find our place in a temporary location, it’s time to turn around and return home.
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Thanks Carrie, yes indeed, I’m already home!
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Wonderful .. and you are so right! I adore your writing .. you take me on a journey.
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Thanks Julie.
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Like all your posts this got me thinking long and hard about my own relationship to place and in particular ancestral places and the complexity of that. I love ‘giants throws their shades on the hills like cast off skins’ Also ‘I must meet it on its own terms to feel at home here.’ I love that line. Both my parents came from Norfolk and I have a very difficult relationship with that place and your post got me thinking about why that was and I’m still thinking!
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Thanks Vicky, that is interesting – and it isn’t always the place itself, but what happened there. This reminds me of how Sam feels about Oxford in your Sam Falconer novels?
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Yes absolutely although recently I’ve been able to go back to Oxford and have a relatively relaxed experience which I have to say is a big relief. Not that I am Sam of course! Maybe the same will happen with Norfolk. Sometimes it is a question of enough time passing.
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I’ve been to places where I feel I should be very settled and relaxed, but it takes me time to get there. When I lived on the farm in the 90’s people would say it was too remote and a bit scary being so far from ‘civilization’ but I loved it. When I moved to the city in 2000 I was just too close to everyone and everything and I couldn’t stand it and the same people would say I lived in a wonderful place so close to loads of people and amenities. I felt trapped, but learned to live with it after a while and then I moved back to the farm in 2012 and felt very separated again and unsure of the wide open spaces and isolation. I think it’s just a matter of adapting to the environment and learning to live as a part of it instead of it being a part of you. I’m pretty sure when you’re no longer at the place you are now with the beautiful ears of Wilbour and Eddie, you’ll remember it fondly 😉
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That’s so interesting to hear about your different perspectives in different places. I’ve arrived home and part of me is glad, but part of me is longing for those open spaces – I don’t think that particular place would have been right for me permanently, but something like it yes 🙂
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As always Andrea, wonderful. Thanks for taking me on the walk with you. Lot of advice in there as well.
Take care.
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How very meaningful. It’s ironic that I just finished a blog draft about trying to fit into a different landscape. It’s why it took me a while to read this post (I was away). I wrote about my experience in such a different way. Yours is poetic, meaningful, descriptive and lovely. Mine is a self-deprecating, humorous look at how far out of place I was in a different setting. My post should be up tomorrow (Tuesday) or Wednesday. I really enjoyed reading your take. It made me feel better about my own awkwardness in a different setting than I’m used to.
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I’ll look forward to reading it Lori, it’s interesting the way we feel in different places, some are easy to settle into and some not.
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This post is so useful. We will be moving next year and I am almost certain I am going to have the same unsettling feeling not because of the place but because of me. It will not be an easy landscape, of that I am sure. I will have to listen to find my place in it. Thank you for the wisdom. Will need to read this many times next year, until I settle.⚘
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I hope it helps Smitha and I do hope you find your place there.
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I know it will help just knowing that life’s like this and it happens to everybody. Yes, I do hope I find my place there…I am not thinking of it too much now. Will face it when it comes…and then will read this again.😊
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I always enjoy reading your poetic, in tune reflections, Andrea.
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Thanks Julia.
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I had to return to this. The images are exquisite. You really have a talent and I hope you are aware of just how good you are.
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Thanks so much Bill.
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Beautiful! I like what you say about meeting a place on its terms rather than our own. What a nice respect you have for places, the spirit of place, and the uniqueness of places.
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Thanks Carla, I think it’s so important to get to know the spirit of a place.
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