Contemplative Inquiry

Above: Alney Island, Gloucester (1) at 7.38am on Wednesday 26 August. Much of it is a flat and open space, and the ground on that day  was neither  parched nor waterlogged.

When I went there it was almost deserted. I enjoyed the taste of solitary freedom on this end-of-summer morning. I felt held by the land and the sky above it: I belonged there. I didn’t need human company. My simple link to this space, in its fullness and its stillness, was enough.

It helped that the wheel of the year was turning in a recognisable way, offering  non-challenging change well within my comfort zone. There was nothing to be afraid of on the horizon. Not on 26 August 2026. Not on this day.

The more enclosed woods (below, 7.45am) felt the same. There were green leaves and brown, evidence of gentle refreshing rain, and the leaf fall not excessive for the time of year. The sun that lit up areas of foliage was a gentle one. I was as well held under the canopy as I had been under the early morning sky. The whole experience was a simple pleasure, clearly demarcated within time yet somehow also beyond it.

(1) For a contrasting experience, see:

A BRIEF TASTE OF THE WILD