Alexander Averin

Friday, 6 April 2012



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.


Pamela Terry and Edward said...

Such is the magnificent, graceful power of nature. I feel those same feelings in the Highlands of Scotland. So happy to know you had that experience today. It made me smile just considering it.

And Happy Belated Birthday to you! I think you received your present today.

The bike shed said...

I agree about the view of the Beacons - especially from the North. The Carmarthan Fans too always inspire - have you ever been I wonder to the magical Llyn y Fan fach. We under-rate our own landscape in Wales, and it troubles me that as a result we may end up losing more of this precious heritage.

mountainear said...

This landscape of ours can indeed be breath-taking - but why sometimes so overwhelming as to induce tears, the feeling you describe so well, is a mystery.

I agree with 'The bike shed' re losing more of our precious landscape here in Wales.

debbie bailey said...

I've experienced seasons such as you describe. I've come to view them as 'waiting seasons'. I believe they're times to soak in things and feel the range of emotions we're capable of, and after it's over, then comes the creativity. I've read about other writers and artists having cycles like ours. It's uncomfortable to be in the valleys, but it seems like they're necessary in order to have something to give out to the world when we're on the mountain top. Make any sense?

Frances said...

Cait, after being away for a while, I am now having a great pleasure in visiting special places like yours.

I know that I have also been unexpectedly touched by various locations or awareness brought suddenly and mysteriously to one of my senses.

Treasured times, certainly.

A Happy Easter to you and your family. xo