“It seemed like the world is moving too fast and I wanted it to stop or at least slow down, so that I could keep up. I wanted the time to wait for me. Then I realized, life goes on, and I have to live with it.”Kcat Yarza
Our quest to see The Kelpies began in Edinburgh’s Waverley Station. The main hall is stunningly beautiful and rather imposing for three small-town women. Buying a ticket, finding the correct platform…among the twenty available…, and boarding on time was a challenge, but we did it…with a wee bit of help from a local. With the first phase of our mission accomplished, we settled back in our seats, pleased with ourselves and full of anticipation for what lay ahead.
The Kelpies, located about 30 miles northwest of Edinburgh, are the largest equine statutes in the world at nearly 100 ft high. These horse head sculptures depict mythical shape-shifting water spirits and were created to honor the horse-powered heritage of Scotland. The magical power of these enormous beasts seemed to pull us toward The Helix Park in Falkirk, where they were awaiting our arrival.
I had seen these impressive statues before from the M9 motorway with my late husband, Dave. He didn’t stop…of course not… but as we approached the position of best visibility, he’d lean back so I could take a photo. Of course, it goes without saying that shooting past Dave out the window of a moving vehicle was not optimal for getting the best picture.
On a sunny day in October, during my first return trip to Scotland after COVID travel restrictions, I saw them from within the park with my sister, Kelly…our intrepid driver…and her husband, Bill. What a treat. Now, in April, I was looking forward to sharing them up close and personal with my sister, Penny, and my granddaughter, Fiona.
The train stopped several times as we made our way out of the city and into the countryside, with additional brief connections in towns on the route. Beyond the city and villages, we sped by fields of brilliant green spring crops dotted with sheep and edged with the ever-present, vibrant yellow Gorse, but my memory has reduced this all to a modern art smear of yellow, green, and sky blue. We were moving too fast for clear memories to form.
“Life is ephemeral; each moment passes quickly a blur of color on a fast moving subway car. There and gone and all we have left is the imprint of what once was.”jacqueline Simon Gunn
My life has been moving at breakneck speed for the past few months. At times, I watch it pass before me as though I’m watching from the window of a train. I hardly have time to savor one event before it has morphed into the next. Perhaps that’s why I am seldom without my phone and its built-in camera. Maybe the pace of our lives is why so many of us carry this memory grabber in our pockets, ready in an instant to freeze the moments of our lives into bite-sized glimpses to appreciate and enjoy later; tangible confirmation and future memory joggers of our adventures.
As we trundled on toward our destination…not giving too much thought to how we would get from the station to the park…another adventure in itself…we had time to relax and simply be. The world was rolling past our windows, and it would spin just fine without us for a while. I rather like the cadence of an event-filled vacation…life…but it is also sweet to simply sit back and enjoy the ride from time to time too.
Rest is not idle, is not wasteful. Sometimes rest is the most productive thing you can do for body and soul.Erica Layne
A few days earlier, through the magic of modern technology, I’d sold my house in Michigan from our flat in Edinburgh, just off the Royal Mile. Still, as we continued our quest for The Kelpies, I had no way of knowing that within a month, I would have stored my worldly goods, spent quality time sharing hugs, laughter, and goodbyes with friends and family, and returned to Vermont. I hadn’t yet been invited to live with my children until I found a place. Nor did I have an inkling of how in Montpelier’s tight housing market, I’d miraculously find a small condo in the perfect location on the North Branch of the Winooski River by the beginning of July.
Now, in late August, the slightest hint of autumn is in the air, reminding me that shortly the leaves will turn, and this long hot summer will only be a memory. Sweaters will replace t-shirts, wool socks will be added to my Birkenstocks, and it won’t be long until mittens and boots emerge from their summer lodging. The seasons provide a natural rhythm to our lives. There is imperative to gather the harvest and busily prepare for a time of quieting and slowing down.
There is ebb and flow. Leaving and coming. Flight and fall. Sing and silent. Reaching and reached.Ally Condie
I find it such a delight to fill in the little squares of my planner with activities and plans. I often find myself creating the itinerary for my next adventure before I’ve finished the final glass of wine of the trip I’m on. The challenge isn’t to remove all the hustle and bustle of life. The real challenge is ensuring that our calendar is filled with activities that add joy and meaning to our lives and that we’re not merely on the hamster wheel going nowhere but actually enriching our lives. Leaving some empty squares in the planner and allowing time to rest, recover, and regroup is essential. Our short time on the train afforded us a brief respite before we would complete our pursuit for The Kelpies.
“No mortal ear could have heard the kelpie passing through the night, for the great black hooves of it were as soundless in their stride as feathers falling. –Mollie Hunter
Standing before these massive sculptures, at last, with people I love, experiencing their expressions of wonder and awe, was a reminder that my life is full of blessings, simmering moments of amazement, and occasions that can only be described as grace. I don’t want to move so fast that I recognize them only as blurred images.
“Untether yourself from the engines of busyness…Instead, consider your life–who you love, and why, how blessed you are to be here, resting under a shower of birdsong, or what strange bright luck it is to be the owner, for a few years, of this beating heart, these wondering eyes, the ears into which the kingfisher spills her small chuckle as she dips across the water…”Kathleen McTigue…An excerpt from “Summer Sabbath”