CLINKERBELLS & WIND IN HIGH PLACES

Ellen was reading Mountains of the Mind by Robert Macfarlane and it sounded interesting but I couldn't find an online copy of it anywhere but I did find others by Macfarlane, including Landmarks. The contents of which reminded me of the above Tumblr post to which I strongly disagree. The isolation has forced me into hobbies and interests I liked as a child - I spent the first week frolicking in forests, building fairy gardens, rearranging my goblin finds, drawing and reading all things faerie. It was great. Anyway, my point is, as much as there are definite hardships to the pandemic and my big walks, you definitely can romanticise both situations, at least partially. I've also been quite captivated by reflections as of late - I have a metallic bag that reflects crazy neon water-like waves that move across the walls with the setting of the sun every evening. This is a small meditative action caused by nature and it's the sort of experience that I'm hoping will present itself on a big walk. I've also switched the psytrance for string quartets as they have been having the same repetitive and upbeat nature. Another nod to childhood. For my second, festival walk it could make a lot of sense to create music whilst on route but have no recordings - sort of like extreme busking. Livi is going to accompany me on that walk and they have a multitude of musical talents which I can accompany if I can source a violin or cello (and at least somewhat remember how to play them).

The introduction to the book continues with some intense love for nature, like describing some mud as dazzling. I can only assume the writers have gotten a lot of both types of sunshine.



Big fan of how ethereal the words sound, particularly ice and snow related ones.