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  • Writer's picturecherylmurfin

Day 4: You haven't seen them all

Updated: Nov 16, 2023


Another misty day greeted us as we walked out of Morebattle — which, by the way, has nothing to do with battles but instead means "dwelling place by the lake.” The lake in question being Linton Loch. Initially we moved along a country road, but soon found ourselves heading over the beautiful Monteviot suspension bridge and following the Teviot River downstream.


The Cheviots
The Cheviots

And then we looked up.


In front of us stood the 1,200-foot-high Wideopen Hill, the highest point on St. Cuthbert’s Way, and, as it's name indicates, wide and open. It's a steep climb, but we all seemed to gain a gust of energy from knowing it's also the halfway point between our start in four days ago in Melrose and our end three days from now on Holy Island. At the top we were rewarded with spectacular views of The Chevoits, the wide range of rolling hills that straddled the English-Scottish border between Northumberland and the Scottish Borders.


From there we crept down into the Bowman Waters valley and along a stretch of paved road into Kirk Yetholm.

The downhill march
The downhill march.

One of our walkers had never hiked before preparing for this walk, for many reasons that are not mine to tell. But I will say that as I watched him lean into the wind and rain and hills today, my inner-whiner was silenced. My knees were protesting. But he simply doesn’t give up. And, I'm learning that he approaches not just this walk, but life, with acceptance and good humor. I'd like to cultivate more of both.


The route took us along part of the Dere Street Roman Road that once crossed southern from York, England to Cramond, Scotland. Dere Street was built by occupying Romans in A.D. 79-81. Toward the end of our walking day, we came to Cessford Castle, a sizable 15th-century castle that rises four stories in some sections and includes walls 13 feet thick in places.


A friend recently said to me, “If you’ve seen one castle, you’ve seen them all.” But I find each of these buildings — once vibrant communities — uniquely fascinating, just as I do the many massive stone churches across the UK. Not for the wealthy who lorded from them but for the work and engineering it took to make them in, say, the 1400s. And for the people involved in that huge undertaking and the villages that arose to serve them.


Cessford Castle
Cessford Castle. See layout of castle in its hayday at the top of this post.

I've definitely passed by a lot of castles and other historic sites (and certainly art exhibits) as I have traveled — and at home — dismissing them the same way my friend dismissed castles. I am prone to roll right by old libraries, Dutch artists, and as I mentioned in my prior post, I might have once said "If you've seen one Indigenous art piece you've seen them all."


Yesterday's prompt challenged me to check those decisions. To take advantage when given the opportunity to see and experience people and places and art outside my purview. To take time to learn and consider more fully what I am seeing. By stopping at Cessford Castle I saw how the wind has molded and changed the structure over time, how it is sanding the sandstone down grain by grain to create a beautiful mosaic wall.


Wind-on-stone mosaic
Wind-on-stone mosaic

I'm glad David invited us yesterday to resist walking by and instead look deeply. You can be sure I will be headed to Seattle Art Museum when I return home. I want to actually see Jeffrey Gibson's art, rather than walk by it.


Because, the truth is, if you've seen one castle or one way of being or doing or experiencing life, you definitely, unequivocally, haven't seen them all.



 

THE PROMPT

The symbolism of the cairn is clarity according to some celtic mytholody: When a trail seems unclear, and there are many possible paths to travel, the cairn points you in the right direction. What is your challenge today?


Write about the paths in front of you or a character. Which direction does your cairn point you?

 

THE WRITING


New moon


By Cheryl Murfin


new moon

didn’t I see you yesterday?

peaking around the mountain

blood red and orange

and smoky

like the ember

as the log dies down

or the tip of the incense

i light when I see you coming

what is new about you?

is it the shade of your skin?

the angle of your face?

or the think black line

that separates you from the sky

like a cut out thing

a decal

stuck on the heavens

i think your newness

is simply the in

the fact you rose

again tonight

which is your habit

and in doing so

recognized

that I am not the same

as I was yesterday

and nor are you

how could we be?


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