The Secret Sharer

aug/30/05

Researched all day yesterday and then went for a nice half-hour walk out through the lanes before supper. The sky was turning a deep blue and in places was covered by the thin gauze of cirrus clouds. The hedges are very overgrown now and in most places you can't see to either side of the road unless there is a gated field entrance. The sun was falling in the sky, and the air was becoming pleasantly crisp after a rare day where the sun felt really powerful. I walked somewhat briskly, trying to cover as much ground as I could while still returning in time not to spoil dinner.
After a year of it seeming like I'm never in the same place for longer than 4 days at a time, I'm trying to get back the old healthy habits I used to have. I've been making it a point to go for a walk every day, although I'll wait a bit before running regularly. I went on a 10 mile walk with Tupa on Sunday, and my hips are still sore and achey at times. In fact, they haven't been the same since I came back from my hike in the Spanish Pyrennees a year ago. I'm starting to worry that I've done permanent damage to them, but I'm hoping it's a case of being permanently out of shape since starting my MA. If it doesn't improve over the next month I think a visit to the doctor will be inevitable.
After studying some more after supper, I layed down for bed with The Voyage of the Cap Pilar by Adrian Seligman, who sailed around the world in the 30's in a sailing-vessel for two years with a crew of mostly laymen who had no experience of sailing. This excerpt from his visit to the Gambier islands sounded like heaven to me. We begin where Cpt. Seligman and his wife and baby were briefly caught in a downfall:
After a while Tioni came to look for us. He led us back to a small clearing by the beach, in which stood three deserted huts made entirely of palm fronds. Here we found the rest of the party gathered around a fire of coconut husks. Upond the embers Tioni had laid four or five breadfruits and two enormous fish, speared by himself earlier in the day.
After supper three natives appeared silently out of the trees. One brought a guitar, and far into the night we sat around the fire, listening to their songs.
Not a breath stirred the palm-tops now. High above us their fronds caught the moonlight, like bright scimitars against the stars. When the singing died away only the occasional call of a night-bird broke the stillness. Then the sweet, heavy sent of the palm-groves poured softly in, like the spirit of the islands settling upon us.
At eight o'clock the next morning the sun was well up; a gentle easterly breeze made the air cool and fresh, and set the wavelets leaping around the coral just awash in the lagoon. Within the shore reef not a ripple stirred upon the china-blue water. Myriads of gaily coloured fishes chased each other, in and out, through the flowers and branches of the coral.
The sea was in her gentlest mood; idling and eddying through to the shore reef, gurgling among the stones, and softly kissing the gleaming beaches, which lay creamy white as a maiden's cheek.

posted by moor-rambler @ 9:30 AM