Sometimes a photograph captures a mood. Six weeks into the lock down it was all becoming a bit claustrophobic. Partly that was because life had few options for change and stimulus, or new scenery with different horizons. Much more I think, from the missing of people, all kinds of people. From our son and wider family, our close friends and wider circle of folk whose company we enjoy frequently, to our church communities, and even the free interaction with others in shops, on the street, at the garage, we were missing people, painfully aware of an inner ache giving birth to loneliness and emotional bereavement.
I hadn't used the phrase 'stir crazy' very much, until I realised that's what we were all going through: "restless or frantic because of confinement or routine." In fact it put me in mind of Cole Porter's song:
Oh give me land, lots of land, and the starry skies above
Don't fence me in
Let me ride through the wide open country that I love
Don't fence me in
Let me be by myself in the evening breeze
And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees
Send me off forever but I ask you please
Don't fence me in
We are, of course, spoilt by where we live. Ten minutes walking takes us into countryside; just over an hour by car to Braemar, and in between Banchory, Aboyne and Ballater. And in between and all around any amount of walking. But it was all unavailable. As I stood half way up Keir Hill just behind where we stay, looking over the drystane dyke towards Loch Skene, I was aware that below me was tightly drawn, rusty barbed wire. When I knelt to take this picture I was aware of the stark barbed lines trisecting the photo. A wall, jaggy gorse, and barbed wire, a triple lock against easy movement in that direction. Yes, sometimes a photo captures a mood.
But then, a change of perspective often changes the mood. This second photo was taken some way back from the first, and shows what was beyond the dyke, the gorse and the barbed wire. Distance seems to make a difference. The constraints are still there, just not so obviously in your face.
Looking over Loch Skene to the higher mountains of the Mounth, the barrier on the east of the Grampian mountain range. To stand looking across the Loch and into the distance, snow on the furthest mountain, and rapeseed just turning yellow a few miles away, was to encounter what was needed to lift the mood and open up the mind to new horizons.
Calvin called this earth the theatre of God's glory. As in every theatre, you have to buy a ticket, take your seat and get into the story. Going for a walk up the hill is like heading out to the theatre, not knowing exactly what will be on, but trusting the director and producer to make it worth your while.
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