A couple of days back I posted a photograph of a piece of driftwood that I had marked out and begun to whittle.
Now here is the finished item, it's a ball in a cage made from a single piece of wood using no more elaborate a tool than a pocket knife. Sad aren't I? to spend hours producing an item that has no useful purpose. I can accept people taking that view, but for me it was a really satisfying way to spend some time. First came the pleasure of mooching along a deserted beach, just Pat and I, that we had walked a mile or so to get to, just to see what had washed up on the shore.Then picking up bits and pieces, examining them and trying to think how I might put them to use and at the same time watching the wildlife, at ease, because it was so quiet. We saw hundreds of birds in the hour or two that we were there. Several days later, I sat outside on my tool box, in the warm afternoon sun and began to whittle away. I was completely absorbed in what I was doing, working slowly and with caution, so as not to cut my hands, removing slivers of wood chip by chip. It was so peaceful the warm sinking sun on my face, Meg by my side and thoughts running through my head. I thought about my girls and their families, I thought about my Mom, I thought about my Dad, I thought about a couple of soldiers that I served with who didn't live long enough to see 21.
I was then disturbed by the "Kronk" of a raven, followed by the "Mew" of a buzzard and I looked up to watch their aerial squabble. Then in the shadows of the back lit trees, I noticed the flying insects, thousands of them, dancing in large groups, swooping down as if all linked together by invisible cord and then up again as one body to be shattered into a thousand individuals as a grey wagtail darted into the hoard to snatch one for a meal. Quickly they regrouped, to continue their dance in the sunlight. I thought about the film "Riverdance" the hours of training, the countless rehearsals and retakes just to record a few minutes on film for our viewing pleasure. These fellows, the insects, gave such a display, no time for rehearsals, no training; most only live for a day, yet the dance was perfection with only the birds to provide the music. All too soon the sun sank below the horizon, the dancers all gone now, my eyes struggling to see in the low light and my hands niggling with a blister from holding the knife, I retired to the truck. A waste of time? ......................Yea. If you say so.
Now here is the finished item, it's a ball in a cage made from a single piece of wood using no more elaborate a tool than a pocket knife. Sad aren't I? to spend hours producing an item that has no useful purpose. I can accept people taking that view, but for me it was a really satisfying way to spend some time. First came the pleasure of mooching along a deserted beach, just Pat and I, that we had walked a mile or so to get to, just to see what had washed up on the shore.Then picking up bits and pieces, examining them and trying to think how I might put them to use and at the same time watching the wildlife, at ease, because it was so quiet. We saw hundreds of birds in the hour or two that we were there. Several days later, I sat outside on my tool box, in the warm afternoon sun and began to whittle away. I was completely absorbed in what I was doing, working slowly and with caution, so as not to cut my hands, removing slivers of wood chip by chip. It was so peaceful the warm sinking sun on my face, Meg by my side and thoughts running through my head. I thought about my girls and their families, I thought about my Mom, I thought about my Dad, I thought about a couple of soldiers that I served with who didn't live long enough to see 21.
I was then disturbed by the "Kronk" of a raven, followed by the "Mew" of a buzzard and I looked up to watch their aerial squabble. Then in the shadows of the back lit trees, I noticed the flying insects, thousands of them, dancing in large groups, swooping down as if all linked together by invisible cord and then up again as one body to be shattered into a thousand individuals as a grey wagtail darted into the hoard to snatch one for a meal. Quickly they regrouped, to continue their dance in the sunlight. I thought about the film "Riverdance" the hours of training, the countless rehearsals and retakes just to record a few minutes on film for our viewing pleasure. These fellows, the insects, gave such a display, no time for rehearsals, no training; most only live for a day, yet the dance was perfection with only the birds to provide the music. All too soon the sun sank below the horizon, the dancers all gone now, my eyes struggling to see in the low light and my hands niggling with a blister from holding the knife, I retired to the truck. A waste of time? ......................Yea. If you say so. 
Waste of time no that is what I would call peace perfect peace enjoy.
ReplyDeleteDave
Thanks for the comment Dave, you are right, of course.
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