On an early morning drive to Brecon today, around a bend into view the Beacons appeared. They were out, lined up in their usual positions but were covered in April’s springtime snow. Many times I have seen them clad in white, either heavily laden, beribboned, or lightly dusted but today their dress could be likened to a wedding gown of pure embroidery and laced by such sunlit beauty it took me by surprise. It is indeed a cliche but it did literally take my breath away and reduced me suddenly to tears, it was as if a piece of music had moved me and the Welsh mountains had touched me, like a song.
Far too many days I had been searching for something; inspiration had been scarce, there were no ideas, words were elusive, there were no lines, not even glimpses. I had turned to music and listened away my miserable mornings which lightened my moods and my nights. By candlelight I had sought out precious, much-loved poets who only made me want to sit and try (in vain) to write or deeply disturbing novels which only brought out my anger.
Today is Good Friday and I shall remember this drive, this day,when I had no camera and only my memory to store the image and the feelings it evoked. (Never before has a view reduced me to tears save when I leave my sacred Ireland and gaze upon its coastline as the ship leaves port).
Perhaps in recognition of my experience this Eastertide, tonight’s Full Moon shines in on me and for once does not disturb but soothes instead the restless stirring in my soul.