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To My Wild Wales Friends Along the Way

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Travelling on a public bus in Wales out in the countryside we met a fellow wanderer that joined our Walkabout for three days.

It was totally unplanned but below is the descriptive essay Aniko shared with our group during thay very special time that we all shared together.

To My Wild Wales Friends Along the Way

Today, it is raining soft rain. Somehow the rain brings the waited-for solace; an opportunity just to be quiet, and feel the blessing of a moment to oneself, amidst the stone buildings shining in the rain - the rock of the mountain - her gift was a sturdy home of the heartland - a shelter, sanctuary; a place to rest and come together to sit around a small table and chat and laugh and sing and love.

The land comes alive after the rain. Replenishment, sustenance and the power of rushing water to gently turn the wheel of a way of life that is good enough for every child who wants to climb a tree, swim in a babbling brook, and climb up into the lap of a loving grandparent, papa or mama and listen to the beat of a heart that is the only love she will ever need to feel as hers to keep forever.

The journeys we have taken together through landscape, seascape, mountain path and flat-stoned street, high-ceiling castle and low-ceiling pub - these footings have criss-crossed us into the traces of lives of those who have lived before, walked before, and even died before their time leaving emptiness, grief and sadness marked on their graves in beautiful stones, even if their names are gone the stones remain for us to remember them by.

The drama of the changing tides, the light, the sun, the wind - a dance we only can learn the steps as we go - there is no preparation that readies us for a moment of silver light on the horizon, or the sighting of a seal pup in her newborn swaddling gown of cream-white fur, delivered on a sea-smoothed rock, waiting for her mother.

The outer journey by sea, or coastal path, or winding, walled-road through bright green pastures - in company with a pen that travels in the canoe in-tow behind the boots; recording the inner thought traveling of one's memories, recollections, and the emerging life stories of you, my fellow travelers along the Wild, Wales way.

-Anikó Yazmin Lewis

Dollgellau, Gwynedd. September 27, 2019.

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