A post anyway
This morning I ran outside to enjoy the bright sun.
Our campus is cleaved right up to its centre (somewhat like an apple-pie from which Anna has snatched away a piece) by a little stream called the Hoopern. This river is flanked by two grass- and tree-covered hillsides, which steeply rise up to the main campus roads that run along the valley's edges. The point now is, that no one ever crosses these roads to enter the small sheltered world which lies beneath.
Thus, ever since I arrived here I have wanted to walk the Hoopern valley. Today I did.
The low winter sun was shining straight from the entrance of the valley, which is on the Exe riverside, where the Hoopern ends) into my eyes. The damp wooden fences were steaming as if treated by the Lord of the Rings scene decorators. At some places the grass was soaked, at some places still covered with frost. Little ice-cold streams trickled between the grass polls. Some trees where bare, but many still golden yellow.
With wet feet and a groaning stomach I returned home.
I made some progress on my paper.
One of the beautiful things I got to read was the defence by Saint Aelred of Rievaulx of the love among monks or nuns. (But of course this does not mean this poetry does not bear on all love):
After reading this, I got some bad news which almost put me off from writing a cheerful post. But after the news was moderated and I got myself back together again, I decided to tell you how wonderful Devon is, anyway.
Our campus is cleaved right up to its centre (somewhat like an apple-pie from which Anna has snatched away a piece) by a little stream called the Hoopern. This river is flanked by two grass- and tree-covered hillsides, which steeply rise up to the main campus roads that run along the valley's edges. The point now is, that no one ever crosses these roads to enter the small sheltered world which lies beneath.
Thus, ever since I arrived here I have wanted to walk the Hoopern valley. Today I did.
The low winter sun was shining straight from the entrance of the valley, which is on the Exe riverside, where the Hoopern ends) into my eyes. The damp wooden fences were steaming as if treated by the Lord of the Rings scene decorators. At some places the grass was soaked, at some places still covered with frost. Little ice-cold streams trickled between the grass polls. Some trees where bare, but many still golden yellow.
With wet feet and a groaning stomach I returned home.
I made some progress on my paper.
One of the beautiful things I got to read was the defence by Saint Aelred of Rievaulx of the love among monks or nuns. (But of course this does not mean this poetry does not bear on all love):
"It is in fact a great consolation in this life to have someone to whom you can
be united in the intimate embrace of the most sacred love; in whom your spirit
can rest [...]; with whom you can rest, just the two of you, in the sleep of
peace away from the noise of the world, in the embrace of love, in the kiss of
unity, with the sweetness of the Holy Spirit flowing over you; to whom you so
join and unite yourself that you mix soul with soul, and two become one."
After reading this, I got some bad news which almost put me off from writing a cheerful post. But after the news was moderated and I got myself back together again, I decided to tell you how wonderful Devon is, anyway.
posted by Anna P.H. Geurts | 9:27 pm
