It was a field with tall hay and a path through it, and… this was it, I was now part of a different universe – I was elated, ecstatic. This was it, THIS WAS IT. It was a field of summer hay with a single foxglove pushed up and bright pink-purple. The straw was purple tinted also – I’ve never seen hay like that I said: pink shimmering hay, it was a musical vibration of purple foxglove, with the colour rippling into the hay.
It was the audacity: right time, right moment, right people, right conditions – funny you should ask, nature said, here it is, this is it. It’s been here all along.
The rain stopped, the mist cleared, the horizon expanded, my eyesight sharpened up and we walked through a path in the hay.
The mist had left sparkling droplets on each straw, shimmering like a silky web of pink hay – the droplets, and the bending of the straw was perfect, geometrically perfect – fibonacci-like, the detail of thousands of hay lines in high definition. “Was this what you were expecting?” I heard.
Yes.
This was it. We walked steeped in glory and smiling in ecstasy, our palms instinctively turning upwards to the heavens, in awe and appreciation as we walked, like heroes in a ceremony, like sufi dervishes slowly spinning towards their trance to get closer to God.
Time stopped.
Time was like a single wave on an infinite lake moving constantly and incessantly onwards, and we had somehow escaped out of this wave – time didn’t apply to us, it hadn’t caught up – we were lucky, like rascals escaping time. The wave of time had reached deep waters and simply disappeared, revealing a beautiful moment just for us.
It was amazing and hilarious and glorious.
I had the feeling that when I die, it will feel like this. Walking through a field, guided.
I felt like a gladiator who had accepted fate. And the closet feeling I felt was a personal best time in sport. It was a feeling of ‘I did it’, I did my best, achieved a lifelong dream, and now: ‘it’s okay’.
I did it. It’s ok.
“It’s the Elysian fields,” I heard him say.
We made it here to the Elysian fields, and I was accompanied, and it was ok, and I didn’t want to leave, I wanted to stay.
Like my dream of the tornado anticipating the inner vortex, I was again dreaming ahead in time, of a different time, knowing that I was now walking in a dream of the future. There will be another time in my life – at the end of it – when I will chose stay here – but, no, not now – now the others were continuing on the path and urging me on, to join them, onwards, and I, I stopped one more time, and I looked back the beautiful scene with a smile, missing it already, eyes sparkling, smiling, heart beating. It was beautiful. I was happy.
We walked further along the path and suddenly I saw a group of men all dressed like miners – they had climbing gear (wetsuits and helmet).
I looked at them as if looking at a different species. I felt a familiarity to them – I knew they were the male variety of a human species, and I knew that I was one of that variety. They walked up the path and one of them said ‘left’ and they all looked left in unison and then turned left, up a path. It was so odd – they moved in unison! I didn’t want to interact with them because I was concerned that it might be obvious that I was on something. At the same time I didn’t really care too much. I was smiling so much.
We carried on a bit further into the cool oak woodland. More fascinating patterns of flowers and even the trees’ wiggly roots were communicating something mysterious.
Then, reaching a high point on the path with a view, we were bowled over by the view of the hills in the distance and the clouds opening and allowing light to shine through onto the hills. It was an amazing place – this little spot on this little planet in the universe. This little moment of time we had found. We were lucky.
We paused for some sandwiches and I was disappointed by how sterile the food was- processed and devoid of colour and substance. Completely unsatisfactory and clearly not from this environment – not from here. It clashed as much as the sound of fog horn in a Sibelius song. Eating bananas in this wild Welsh landscape was completely inappropriate and I could barely do it.
I wanted purity. I didn’t want to see other humans. I didn’t want to see a pylon or aluminum foil or farmed bananas. I was craving the wild, untouched and natural beauty of nature. Purity. Ecstasy. One with nature.
We carried on to find it.
A few people that passed us looked strange. I started viewing humans as perhaps an animal might. There was something about humans that set them apart from the rest of nature. What was it? It was that look in their eyes.
I wanted to look at the females, they were beautiful.
I was smiling.
In fact I was grinning from ear to ear – I was smiling so much, and realised that I didn’t spend enough time smiling. I had once asked my four year old daughter if there was anything I could do to be a better father. She said smile! Something I didn’t do enough of. I was feeling elated and happy.
Another group came by and I tactically felt the urge to say something to indicate to them that I’m ‘one of their species’ and I figured that I ought to do this by making a funny remark because that’s what the male species likes best. They laughed and made a funny remark back and we laughed too. It was wonderful and ludicrous. But I wanted to see more of nature instead of interacting with humans.
Afterwards, the shorter one said that he overheard one of group members say, “last time I was like that, I was in Bali”. I found the comment hilarious and I appreciated it greatly. We rested and ate some more food. We sat on a crumbled ancient stone wall. Taller and shorter said they appreciated my presence and said they were inspired to do good things when around me and that I had a determination that they appreciated. They also liked how strong I was. I was glad to hear this. One of my aims during this trip was to explore and reflect upon what role I played and what I can offer others. In fact I forgot to reflect about it, but instead it came to me by chance from my fellow travellers. They probably picked up my question from the ripples in the atmosphere and answered it for me.
We continued on and marvelled at the scenery. But gradually I could feel the effects slowly dampening.