the curse of the gypsy blood

floodtrees

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“There’s a race of men that don’t fit in,
A race that can’t sit still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain’s crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don’t know how to rest.”
― Robert W. Service

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It rained,

and then it rained some more…

even when it isn’t raining, it still sounds like it is…

The sound outside has found its way into the world within,

a gentle music,

tip, tap tip,

drip, drop, drip,

mesmerising thoughts into a stream,

which flows, and goes along…

until it finds itself stopped by a blockage, and… then it floods the land around.

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“As long as I live, I’ll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I’ll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I’ll acquaint myself with the glaciers and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can”.”
― John Muir

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There was once a bench…

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Benched

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There is still a bench…

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floodpond

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But the pond beside which the bench sits has changed, it has now merged with the drainage ditch which runs along beside it and has overflowed, and they are slowly turning the landscape into a mere…

not for long though, as my neighbour called the farmer who owns the ditch, and who brought a digger with him to clear the blockage and restore the flow… and soon the water will ebb away.

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“Impulse arrested spills over, and the flood is feeling, the flood is passion, the flood is even madness: it depends on the force of the current, the height and strength of the barrier.”
― Aldous Huxley

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It’s funny…

you can tell certain things about certain people by the way that they react to things, to events… especially those events caused by nature doing those things which affect humans in a way… that bothers them… that makes their worries and fears rise like an incoming tide, reminding them of their worst case scenarios… and how much they want to avoid those.

When I saw the flooding, only a small part of me worried that my house would soon have a water feature, which according to feng shui is very auspicious, all around it and inside of it too perhaps…

my house is made of dried mud mixed with hay, so really I should be concerned when the water rises…

but it’s been here for over a hundred years and I haven’t… therefore I think it knows how to take care of itself better than I do.

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small pond reflection

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Everyone I’ve met in this new landscape has lived here longer than I have lived anywhere (unless we count planet Earth). They have their roots firmly planted in the soil, drinking deeply of the waters which ebb and flow, absorbing the nutrient rich history of the place into their veins. They are one with the land…

and they have been incredibly welcoming to this gyspy-blooded soul who has set up her camp on their land.

I’m like a stray animal who has found that not all humans use their fists to communicate… their fear of the unknown.

Everything in this place is an unknown to me, and will take time to absorb… sinking into the inner earth…

When I saw the flooding, I looked at it in awe, grabbed my camera and tried to capture the beauty of it, of the sun glinting through thick prideful clouds and hitting the ripples of a watery story…

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“And really, it wasn’t much good having anything exciting like floods, if you couldn’t share them with somebody.”
― A.A. Milne

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Years ago, when the first trickle of global warming began to filter into consciousness…

(which was years before it became such a hot topic… before there was a plethora of doom-mongering tales spinning out of it… and people profiting from those kinds of worries)

someone drew a map of the flooded world designed to show those seeking to get ahead of this new version of the human chess game of survival where to live to avoid living underwater.

I remember making note of where I should live if I ever settled down…

a gypsy-blooded soul carries their uprooted roots with them and likes to know about the earth upon which they wander, what is beneath their feet and what could affect it at any given time…

and even though I once dreamed that I could breathe underwater…

that was only a dream…

as was settling down in a home of my own…

Hmmm…

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“Every time you see a flood like that on the news you tell yourself: That’s it. That’s my heart.”
― Haruki Murakami

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the worst and the best are close companions…

just as dreams and reality…

I swore that if I ever settled down, I’d do it on a place that was up above the rising waters of the world, but…

that was a plan made by someone who was still dreaming and thought the dream would never end by coming true, becoming a reality…

I made a lot of wishes while dreaming that dream…

many of which are becoming a reality and that…

is rather worrying…

as I was careless with my wishes when I thought that’s all they were…

whispers for the winds to carry away and never return with anything other than a laugh at the folly of them…

here I am living in a place which breathes underwater, and so must I…

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