"End to End via the Margins"
The room where I stayed last night had the best view of any room I've ever slept in. I was away and almost straight onto the moor and into some hours' hard walking.
On the way off the moor, across a sloping tract of close cropped grass, the map blew out of my hand and up the hill, unfolding and tumbling. It was just that crucial fraction of a mile per hour faster than a fat man labouring up the hill under a rucksack. Just as I was giving up the chase, the map folded itself again and sank to the ground in front of two puzzled sheep. From then on I clung on hard. However, I can't honestly say that the power of prayer was involved in this incident.
The journey on to Launceston was a straightforward but long tramp along mostly back lanes.
Note to walkers... They haven't had a Benny Rothman down here, and the part of Bodmin Moor I crossed is not open access. You may need to choose between going miles out of your way or climbing a few gates. Do what your conscience tells you.Pictures from today...
Moorland scene - Camperdown cross
Moorland scene - horses
Moorland scene - Brown Willy before I climbed it
Moorland scene - a suitable place for lunch
Walking in the margins. Planners wouldn't expect someone to walk here, but the A30 was unavoidable for half a mile
Pray for people in the margins,
people for whom the world isn't designed,
but who nevertheless have to survive;-
The refuse tip scavengers of Cairo,
people whose skills are no longer required,
people too tall for doorways,
people too short to gain respect from others who should know better,
you add to this list.
God help all people to know
that you hvae counted the hairs on the head of each,
and help us to behave
as if that was true.
|© Bob Warwicker. The words here may be reproduced freely, but not for gain, or without attribution. All alterations must have the permission of the author.|