It Does Not Escape Me

It does not escape me.

That I have sat in towers, and castles, abbeys and caves, upon beaches and city streets, to write.

I have sat where greater writers than I, have thought, and written.

I have stood where courageous men and women sacrificed their freedoms and their lives for their beliefs.

I have traveled roads that have taken me to places I have read about in history books.  Books that I sought out to learn about that very history.  I have stepped out of the car, and into my imagination, to try and feel or see what that history must have looked like…back when it was not history.  But their truth.  I have stood staring….to see what they must have seen.

I have breathed the air that incites passion in a man’s soul.

It does not escape me.  Tonight, as I sat at a large and heavy wooden table, with a pot of tea at my finger tips, a castle just there….in front of me.  A river lazily lying nearly at my feet.  No.  It does not escape me.  That I am right here.

Here.

Here.

 

40 thoughts on “It Does Not Escape Me

  1. Colleen, I love the personality that comes through your writing. I wish you so well, and hope you thoroughly enjoy the rest of your travels, and continue to share the insightful and contemplative thoughts you think in the places that hold so much history and importance.

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  2. I can feel your being “here” while you’re over there, and that there’s your knowledge you’ve been where there’s a “here” before you were there. ……I think I said it almost right !!

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  3. It is an amazing feeling to inhale the essence of a place from long ago. I remember once, visiting a small island. I was riding a moped around town and found these massive abandoned buildings/homes behind gates…in a town that was mostly bungalows. I felt a sudden overwhelming sense of oppression, a government of times past that had not been friendly to its people. The people, who were quite friendly and humble. It was an odd sensation but a memorable one at the same time. It so intrigued me, I had to take a picture of it…peeling paint and all.

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  4. Continue your enjoyment, sitting / walking in someone else’s history and path. Continue to breathe in all the now unheard spoken words of those who were there before you as you feel a part of the past and their kindred spirits. Beautiful picture.

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