Sometimes, words just don't feel enough to capture an experience. Photographs just don't do justice to how you felt in the moment.
A couple of weeks ago, I went on a road trip with my brother (who happens to be an incredibly talented photographer - you can see some of his work here). We headed west to Cornwall for a four-day break, largely to give him an opportunity to capture some photos, but also for some sibling time away and general shenanigans. I haven't laughed so much in a long time, there was silliness aplenty. We explored beaches and clifftops, visited some beautiful places, ate some very good food and almost got stuck in the windy country lanes whilst following the trusty SatNav...
Our Airbnb was near a cove called Rinsey (at the end of one of the aforementioned windy lanes, which stopped at the clifftop!), so we decided to explore on the Sunday evening.
Wow. I wasn't expecting to be quite so blown away with awe. I had a bit of a moment standing on that beach, which led to some hilarity. The following morning, I was still feeling something of a shift in myself, so attempted to capture it in writing:
I don't really know how to express what happened last evening. We walked down to Rinsey Cove, a sandy bay filled with boulders and rocks. The cliffs loomed large behind us with caves containing their own private waterfalls. The path we ventured down emerged through an opening in the rock forged by... what? Water? Man-made using flint tools? A rocky outcrop with a path carved through it, walls of stone on either side.
Looking away from the cliffs at the expanse of the horizon, I could sense the vastness of the ocean. The waves beginning their journey back to the cliffs, striking the rocks in their path as they have done millions of times before. I stood at the cliff face, running my fingers across the layers of time, the realisation of the millennia in front of me, beneath my palm.
This place, remote and untouched, felt primitive. Raw. Wild. I felt it in my soul, speaking to me. An emotional pull to something indescribable. I closed my eyes, the warm black rocks beneath my hand, the scent of salt and sand. The sound of the water toing and froing against the well-worn stone with its glistening coat of mossy weed. An overwhelming sense of awe washed over me, bringing tears to my eyes. I was humbled, insignificant in this spectacular place. I wondered how many people had stood there before me, had journeyed along that path, clambered over those rocks to touch the sand? How many had perished, unaware of the changing tide?
My soul felt an ache to stay. To not return to so-called civilisation. To remain in this wilderness. I was captivated.
Even reading this back now, it doesn't fully express that moment. How can it?
My reason for sharing is this - we need to make space in our lives for awe and wonder, be aware and take note of things bigger than us. We get so consumed by the day-to-day grind, the tasks and distractions of the modern world. We need some release from that, and spending time in nature is one way of allowing ourselves that space and time. The world around us is incredible, yet we get fixated on the insignificant. I'm not saying we should abandon our daily responsibilities (although retreating to a hut away from the hustle is very tempting to this writer!), but make time to step away into blue and green spaces. Allow yourself to breathe, to really notice the world. It is our natural state, after all. We are not designed to be stuck indoors in front of screens, away from natural light, inundated with artificial sounds and notification pings.
Take the time. Your soul will thank you for it.
With much love, as always,
Anna x x
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