Thursday, 26 May 2011

What the Caterpillar Calls the End of the World . . .

Good Morning Dear Friends

I began this post a couple of days ago but life seems to have a habit of getting in the way of my writing - something needs to be done, that's for sure!   So here I am on Thursday morning, and beyond the study window the world is a relentless drip of grey; the sky is the colour of pigeons wings and an altogether flat feeling pervades my thoughts . . . I had a bit of a sleepless night which no doubt hinders my cheerfulness to a greater or lesser degree . . . however, sworn as I am to positivity and happiness-spreading I shall try my best not to buckle under the weight of barometric pressure which, conversely, will be low, won't it?

Anyhow, there's been much talk lately of endings; it is just over a week since college finished and I'm due to end with my clients in Bury in the next week or so plus, of course, the news on Saturday that the world was going to end and the great cataclysm would be upon us  - which, as I write, has still not happened or if it has I've been too busy to notice . . . anyhow, as I was walking with Sal the other day I was thinking of all these endings and I looked up from my ponderings, as it were, and saw a structure, the image which is posted above; I was instantly taken back to when I was around 3 years old or so and learned something that I was able to use many, many years later . . .

My maternal grandmother lived in a wee house - now demolished - just beyond this bridge and when I was three years old she died and I found her bed; in the following weeks as we continued to visited my granddad who still lived there but was preparing to move, I asked constantly where she was - I had, of course been excluded from the funeral and, as far as I was concerned, she had just disappeared.

I remember my mum pointing up and saying to me " She's in heaven now" and, looking up, I saw this huge massive structure.  I said " Can she see me from up there? " "Oh yes" said my mum and I waved . . . for some time afterwards I continued to look up at this bridge and wonder what my Nan was up to in 'heaven' ! Many years later, I was involved in a bereavement course and we were speaking about all the different  euphemisms for death and how they could confuse children's understanding and I though instantly of my three-year-old self waiting for his Nan to get down from the West Coast Mainline!

And it is on this very line that I will begin next weeks jaunt to Jura -  in the face of, it has to be said, considerable opposition from the natural world!  Not only have gale force winds been blowing the wrong kinds of trains off the tracks in Scotland but our dear old friend the Grímsvötn volcano in Iceland has manage to wreck havoc on air travel with its clouds of volcanic ash  . . . flights from Glasgow Airport which is, of course, my airport of departure, seemed to be quite badly hit at one point although today things seem to be back on a more even keel . . . anyhow, if all goes according to plan, it is there I hope to have the enforced solitude and muse-filled inspiration which will enable me to finish "The Maelstrom" which is of course the reason behind this trip in the first place . . . 

I've had to do lots of research for this book; The main character Blair is based on George Orwell and the events that occurred to him whilst he was staying on Jura make up some of the story line for the book . . . it has however been changed and manipulated somewhat, not to mention augmented by a few of the myths and legends that surround this lonely and far-flung outpost . . . hopefully the resulting cocktail will be palatable and enjoyable . . . not least to mine hosts the Diurachs of Jura Whisky who will be publishing it on their wonderful website  - -    shortly after completion.

So as one time of being ends, another begins; as the title of this post relates "What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls a butterfly" one of my favourite quotes from Richard Bach's terrific book  "Illusions"  . . . life all about change and embracing it positively; something which, I must admit, I am rather better at in theory than practice but I hope I am improving . . . and as if to reward my little burst of positivity the sun has begin to peep through the wings and into the study windows . . . the rain has stopped - at least for the moment - and small hounds are making "Well? Are we going for a walk or what?" type glances and movements - Sal is so eloquent in her silence!

So I will leave you here and hope your day is fortune-filled and full of love and laughter

'til next time

Be Seeing You !


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