"... I've been blessed
countless times
in life and
still I wonder ..."
Every now and again something unexpected completely blows me away. Does that ever happen to you? I hope so, because everyone deserves to experience such magic at least once.
I’m still smiling inside and out when I think of it. Despite having a stinking cold, I sat up late one evening and wrote the poem I am sharing this week. I just had to get something down, whilst still fresh in my mind. Sadly, that lovely warm feeling doesn’t last, does it? The day to day stuff starts to creep back in and, before you know it, the memory is fading.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with the day to day stuff. But, right now, I have to tell you about the library I discovered at Eas Mòr, near Kildonan on the Isle of Arran recently. The Eas Mòr Ecology Centre is a charity, run by volunteers, whose key focus is to promote ecology and eco-systems. I’m not doing it justice here, but do read up on it! In the woodland, you can follow a well-marked trail to a waterfall and library. As a child, I visited the library every week. The Carnegie Library in my home town was a wonderful building, with dark wood panelling, a sweeping staircase and stained glass in some of the windows. The building itself felt special, further enhancing my joy at the books on display. I loved that place and the world it opened up to me.
I knew, of course, that a library set in woodland, would not match up to those childhood memories. I expected a small hut of some kind, with a few shelves, supporting an eclectic mix of fiction and non-fiction, all a bit musty and dog-eared. How wrong I was!
It was a wooden hut, in a clearing; that much is true. But it was not filled with books. There were a few shelves of books, on ecology mostly, from what I could gather. They were not easy to spot. Why not? Because the walls and ceiling, window and door frames, were covered in loose sheets of A4 paper, each one of which had been pinned in its place. Against one wall, was a small wooden table on which I found blank paper, pins, and a box of coloured pencils. There was even one of those old pencil sharpeners, once present in every classroom, clamped to the teachers desk. You wedged your pencil into the inner chamber and turned the handle. Who remembers those?
There was an aura about this hut. The paper seemed almost to whisper, the way that leaves do in the wind. And yet it was completely silent. All human life was here: messages of love and hope, stories of pain carried too long, tributes to loved ones who had died. There were drawings of birds, and pet dogs. People had drawn family groups of matchstick figures. I discovered true wisdom on some those sheets of paper; simple but profound truths that made you want to keep reading. One person had drawn a garland of leaves, and inside the border of green had written: we are not separate from nature, we are nature. Another had drawn the wooden hut and underneath had summed it up perfectly: how can a small box be such a window to the soul.
It feels like we hear nothing but negativity on the news. It’s enough to turn the best of us into cynics. Yet, here was an example of people willing to let down their guard and write from the heart. Wow! It was joyous and deeply moving. I felt strongly connected as I too sat down at the desk and wrote something heartfelt, which I carefully pinned to the wall.
If you ever have the opportunity, do visit this place. You can check it out online, but better still, just go and feel its power for yourself. You will not be disappointed!
