Thursday, 12 September 2013

Freedom is a Nissan Micra - Brimham Rocks



I've not written for a while which is odd because I have had so many thoughts, worries and adventures recently. My new therapist has really emphasised how important it is to keep track of my complicated thinking patterns and what makes me happy and what makes me worry, she gave me a diary sheet and everything! But then she also made me cry so I haven't bothered filling them in, like a moody child, cutting my nose off despite my face.

With all the stress my mind manages to ooze and swish around my brain like a gooey substance that clings to every thought, I really needed some fresh air, some freedom....

I bought this book called 1000 Things to do in Britain because I am obsessed with lists... lists of thing I have done or am yet to do, and so I opened the book on the Yorkshire section and decided where would be my first adventure. But first I needed some transport...


Pulling over to admire the view
light at the end of the tunnel

This is Woogy, my Nissan Micra number 2. In Nissan Micra number 1 I crashed into a teacher's car in the school car park and then lost all confidence so just stopped driving all together. But the time has come to jump back on the horse and gallop into the Yorkshire wilderness to 'find myself'.

I found myself in a rock.


Brimham Rocks is in the middle of nowhere, like a Jurassic land in its isolation and emptiness. I loved being able to get in my car, find somewhere on the map, and just drive there. Freedom is a Nissan Micra.


Brimham Rocks is just one of the many spectacular countryside scenes where nature and weather and elements so much greater and immortal than mere human beings have molded the landscape.


Being a creature of the forest and meadows, I was a bit worried that the rocks would feel bleak and bare in comparison. But then you spot little huddles of beautiful heather, decorating the rocks with its pink and purple flowers that cling relentlessly to the stone. Fluorescent green ferns were shivering in the wild, grey winds as well, bringing the grounds to life.




There's something quite liberating about standing atop of a stone platform, immovable and mighty, and you can yell so loud and no one hears as the wild, whistling wind picks it up and disappears into the rolling, green horizon.

warm, wooly jumper weather



I liked thinking about all the living things that have touched these stony surfaces, that have run their hands over these same grooves and curves, that have ever so slightly contributed to the molding of these stony giants. And how now I am one of them.




I have a pebble in my room that I regularly keep in my coat pocket and hold between my thumb and forefinger and I run my thumbprint over the smooth edges to help relax me. It fits in my hand so perfectly I am just certain that someone before me did the exact same thing, before it found its way to me.

perfect person sized indent

like an egg in an egg cup

the stone throne





I guess that's what is so overwhelming about this magnificent landscape, it reminds you how brief and insignificant our time on earth is, compared to these rocks that have seen so much and will see so much more. And yet, every single one of us, no matter how unimportant we feel, leaves some trace of our fleeting existence. Whether it's in the trees we run our hands along or the rocks we carve our names into, every life adds to the history of everything that ever was and ever will be. And maybe in thousands of years someone else will stand atop this rock and reflect on all the living things to have ever been here, and I will be one of them.




the camera timer wasn't long enough for me to dive in

Jack managed to set the timer and stroll to his spot

Worn out after the giddiness of fresh air and clambering around the rocks we got back into the warm, comforting safety of my little diddy car and headed home.


I'm looking forward to taking many more adventures in my Micra, because life is too short not to explore and I have 999 more things I need to do so I better get a move on...