Visiting Friends and Rediscovery of Old Places

I visited some friends last weekend. Friends who I have known for 40 years. Friends who you just pick up where you left off last time. Friends where the passing of time means nothing.

I very nearly cancelled this trip, this plan for a meet up. It all felt like a lot of effort and hard work, and a lot of driving and an easy weekend at home taking it easy was sounding quiet attractive. But sometimes we have to put those thoughts out of our mind and get on with plan A.

Hey, guess what? I had a great weekend. I went back to where I grew up, where I spent the first 19 years of my life. Before moving away and not really going back for long periods of time, just visiting. Except for a few weeks in the summer of 1998. I was studying podiatry and had a few weeks before starting back for my last year.

I went ‘Home’ to stay with my parents. I was 31. We were all sorting of dreading it. Actually it turned out really well. I spent a lot of time walking and cycling with my dad. We got on well ( we disagreed on a lot of things when I was in my late teens and early twenties) which was a great relief to both of us. He died of cancer in 2000. So to have those weeks before he got ill again was something special.

My friend who I stayed with lived close to the river where my dad dragged us as children on family walks. Now he would think nothing of a 30 miler on a Sunday, or a 100 mile event over a weekend, although he took it easier on us kids, we were definetly covered a lot of milage in our youth.

He liked to get us out walking and exploring where we lived. It wasn’t that exciting. No mountains or hills. A river and big open skies, views that stretched for miles, because there was nothing to get in the way. I grew up in a town on the edge of the Fens in East Anglia on the River Ouse. St. Ives - the other one, the one in Cambridgeshire. The one of ‘As I was going to St. Ives I met a man with seven wives ……….” fame.

But I think these adventures stuck with me. Became embed in my psychic. As I still love to do this. When I go somewhere new. I want to explore. Whether it is a day visit or a new place to live. I have to go and see what is on my doorstep. I would like to think he is with me, encouraging me to follow a path and see where we end up.

We had most of where we lived covered with the old Pathfinder OS maps, the blue or green ones. Remember those? I still have a load in a box. I can’t seem to part with them. We would look and explore on the map, before venturing out. I still do this. But now on a computer screen. Unless I am at Hathersage clinic where one wall has a 2.5m2 map with Hathersage in the middle. I get lost in the map. And so do many clients. It attracts a lot of attention that map.

Anyway, seem to be drifting off the subject. So my friend welcomed me in. The comfortable feeling of being comfortable with someone. Time to chat, drink a bit of wine, eat some food. Unhurried. No time constraints. Just talking and catching up. Then just talking. We covered all topics that weekend. Effortlessly moving between subjects, going back and forward as our trains of conversations led us around and about. Isn’t this just such a good feeling? A good way to relax and stay in the present. Bringing our experiences and reading to the room. Learning and sharing, listening and questioning.

My walking companion

And now to the other bit of my story. Early the following morning. I do wake up early and my friend is not really a morning person. The dog was keen for a walk, so was I. This makes for good company. We both help each other out in this situation, so off we went. The morning was still and had that lovely pre sunrise feel about the air. It was chilly but also warm for Autumn. I greeted a few other dog walkers and the dogs did their thing. Everyone in good spirits on this fine morning. The sun was now just up and the air warming quickly. The light changing, shadows appearing and the soft light becoming harsher. The golden hour now departed.

I always find it strange to have such big views without having to climb up a hill. My mind remembering these views. The sky big and blue, the views hazy into the distance. Clumps of trees the only things breaking up the views.

We arrived at the river and the memories came flooding back. That feeling of familiarity but also of something new. I have walked this river many times. I have also travelled by boat, canoe and punts. I have swam in it, jumped in from rope swings, fallen in and walked home soaking and in big trouble. I have ran beside it, walked slowly and sat and watched it flow by. In daylight, in darkness, with family and friends and on my own. A place to explore, hide, tell secrets, make secrets, escape to and from.

A rope swing from a tree. I was so glad to see that today’s youth also know about rope swings. Or was it put up by my ghosts to tempt me in. I refrained. Talking of ghosts, my dad was with me. I walked this section, on both side, with him so many times. Often talking but also quietly. Most likely my quiet was due to the speed we would usually be travelling along. An early morning wake up from him to get me going. A walk before breakfast or work! I was seeing this familiar place with new eyes, a new head and new experiences.

I was looking and seeing. Taking note, letting the river guide me. Letting it show me it’s delights. The shapes of the trees on the banks. Their reflection twins in the water. Still green leaves, but just starting to show some colour changes. Soon the views will be fuller and not interrupted.

The water clear. No sorry still not tempted to get in it. Small fish by the bank. Trees and bushes falling into the water, rushes and reeds hiding the usual suspects that make their home along the edges of the water. A family of swans come towards me and then move on. Coots and moorhens being busy, making a fuss but hiding in the reeds. Birds and squirrels darting about in the trees. The cows on the opposite bank stretching their legs as they start they daily tour of their fields.

But mostly I was feeling. Letting the feelings come and go. I wasn’t expecting this. It took a little while to register what was going on. Like a gradual recognition of something lost and forgotten but now found again. A warm feeling of familiarity that felt good to experience. This once familiar place that took up so much of my time when I was younger was being revealed to me again. That time spent with friends, learning, living and making these memories that now came back to me. It felt good to be back. To relive and remember.

But I was a guest. I had borrowed the dog and took myself off for a walk and time was ticking by. The sun was rising and breakfast was calling. I also had other meetings with long forgotten places and faces. To relive and recall memories. To laugh and enjoy those shared moments. To know that this is what we still need to do. Never stop exploring, never stop making memories, never stop revisiting those old memories, or they are not memories any longer. So glad I made that effort, which, as usual wasn’t an effort after all. Go live.