This week at work I’ve been recommending Book Crossing to teachers and parents, but all the while never having actually participated in it. But that has now changed – thanks to the hand of fate on a sunny Saturday in Kinlochard.
Bright and early on Saturday morning the husband and I set off for a walk up Ben Venue, determined to make the most of the sunshine forecasted. About half an hour in, I was seriously struggling – heavy of breath, light of head, sweaty of brow – and had to have a rest by a scenic pool. I’d been feeling sore of throat all week, and this seemed to suggest that I have some lingering bug in my system.
So I baled just after the beautiful pool by which Walter Scott sat and wrote Rob Roy, and retraced my steps back to the village of Kinlochard, leaving the intrepid husband to scale the summit.
After a reviving cup of tea at the Wee Blether Tearoom (oh ok, and a slice of delicious cranchan cake – they also gave me three free hot water top-ups which is always much appreciated, particularly when one is a lone traveller) I wandered along through the village, until I came across this:
Beautiful boxes full of books! There was a donation box next to these, for anyone who was feeling charitable towards the survivors of the Nepal Earthquake, and I flung in a handful of change in exchange for Paulo Coelho’s The Witch of Portobello. The owner of the boxes was sunning herself in the porch of this beautiful house:
and I shouted a cheery ‘thank you’ over the gate after my lenghty deliberation over which one to choose. I then took my choice off to the lake shore for a read in the sunshine.
It was a perfect warm day for reading in a secluded spot, and I was completely thrilled to discover upon opening it that I had unwittingly picked up my first Book Croosing tome! It has only just started on its journey, but I am looking forward to depositing it somewhere once I’ve finished it, and then sending it on its merry way. Huge thanks to the generous ProfKen who started me on by Book Crossing journey.
After the beauties of Book Crossing, we then headed out to that remote literary spot, Inversnaid of Gerald Manley Hopkins fame. It’s one of my favourite-ever poems, and even my glaciologist husband can recite large chunks of it, he’s heard it so often. Here it is for you to enjoy, along with a couple of pictures from the rest of this marvellous day:
This darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollrock highroad roaring down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home.
A windpuff-bonnet of fáwn-fróth
Turns and twindles over the broth
Of a pool so pitchblack, féll-frówning,
It rounds and rounds Despair to drowning.
Degged with dew, dappled with dew
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through,
Wiry heathpacks, flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.
What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left,
O let them be left, wildness and wet;
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
— Gerard Manley Hopkins
Now – tell me about your Book Crossing adventures and discoveries…