Pauline of ‘Memories are Made of This’ has nominated me to do the 5 photos, 5 stories. So my intention its to stick to a self-imposed theme of ‘a sense of place’, and see how I can interpret this in different ways.
Another visit to the past, this time a Haibun.
Too late to climb Cadair
1967. Trudging up a Welsh peak in dismal weather. The creak and squeak of sou’Westers as we fumble along in the drizzle and wind. The cloud descends, the path barely visible, we turn back.
black rock glowering
over midnight blue lake
Years later, the mountain calls. Afternoon sun glows on a cool March day. A fast scramble up through woods, a steady pull to the vast lake, followed by the steep climb to the ridge before the peak. The diminutive lake glints below. Clouds begin to gather.
the last of the light
The postscript: Following my diagnosis some years ago with Multiple Sclerosis, I know I shall never reach the summit of Cadair…muscle fatigue and poor balance have put paid to that…
And now I need to fulfil the second part of this challenge, and invite another blogger to take part. Today I would like to nominate Cybele of ‘There was a Time’, who creates stunning photographs and some truly mysterious, spellbinding stories…
There’s no obligation, Cybele – have fun if you have time/want to join in!
The challenge is to just “post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or a short paragraph and each day nominate another blogger for the challenge”.
I was never any good at the serious climbing stuff. I don’t mind the odd scramble but my balance has never been great. That’s what bums are for, isn’t it? I do a good slither 🙂 It’s a magnificent scene though.
When I said climb, I didn’t mean rock climbing…walking high up!
Such fickleness of weather *spoils many a day … your Haiban is a perfect accompaniment to your picture .
I’ve found with age and a dodgy back my sights are set somewhat lower nowadays … but with photography one doesn’t have to climb great heights to get that sense of achievement and happiness . Thankfully 🙂
Have a great weekend !
Many thanks, Poppy, glad you like! And quite right about the photography… 😀
That was meant in the broadest and all encompassing of ways Sue … perhaps I should have mentioned it in my comment that of course since following you for sometime now I knew of your MS x
Oh, I know! And I probably shouldn’t have mentioned MS in the post – makes it look like I’m after sympathy….
This is a beautiful photo Sue. I will do my very best to take you with me virtually to as many high points as I can manage. 🙂
Fantastic, thank you Sue!
I’m sorry to read that you have MS, it must be a constant challenge, I admire you.
Thanks, Gilly – it is a challenge, but one I hope I’m equal to…it’s just sometimes I think with sadness about what I can no longer do. Most of the time I’m upbeat – there’s still plenty I can do!
Sorry to read about the MS Sue. It makes me feel guilty for some of the comments I have posted.
1967, you were on a Welsh mountain, I was in Grosvenor Square, outside the US Embassy, protesting against the Vietnam War. Who would have thought we would meet here, on the ‘blog’?
Best wishes as always, Pete.
Oh, Pete, don’t worry! And yes, isn’t it great, the people we meet in our blogging world! The little girl on the mountain and the protestor in later life…
What an interesting image with the lake at the bottom. I have great respect for those Welsh mountains. My uncle died on one of them after the Wellington bomber he was in, returning from a mission over Germany, crashed in 1941. Ironically, his sister, my mother, was taken seriously ill whilst visiting Wales 50 years later. I love looking at the landscape, but I am keeping well away from those peaks.
As you steadily walk up on the path up towards the top, you circle Llyn Cau, and the views are stunning looking down. I was glad I got a few photographs. However, I can quite understand your decision to stay away from the peaks, Jude, after the tragic demise of your uncle.
I discovered recently that there is a memorial to him (and the other members lost in the crash) in Blaenau Ffestiniog (erected last year) so I really do want to visit and pay my respects to a man I never knew except through a photograph. I don’t think my mother ever got over losing him. Is this place close to there?
Oh, I heard about that memorial, I hope you get to see it. You asked if the mountain I posted about was near – no, Snowdon is closer. Cadair is about 40 miles south of Blaenau. I used to do quite a lot of walking around Blaenau in my youth! Trips to North Wales off season. I recall stunning October weather. But also loads of rain…. 😦
I believe I know where this is now, might even have a photo of Cadair Idris, we drove past that area a lot when we lived in Shrewsbury and did day trips into north Wales.
I think some mountains aren’t meant to be climbed. Over here the aboriginal elders ask us not to climb certain mountains for they are sacred. The same idea can be found throughout the Himalayas. Sometimes its best to look from afar.
I really like the haiku you have included in your post. They capture the feeling of the mountain wonderfully.
Thank you for sharing something of your journey with MS too Sue. You are a woman with the strength and courage of a mountain. All the best.
Glad you like the haiku, Suzanne…written when I had inspiration. Hoping that will return more regularly when I have finally moved and some stresses go! Thanks for your lovely comment, much appreciated
It was stunning!
Sorry you weren’t able to make it to the top that day. You did get a wonderful image though. Ah yes, none of us can know what the future holds for us, which is why we need to make good memories whenever we can. xx
I completely agree! And fortunately I already have quite a number!
wonderful photo and poetic words!! And I am so sorry about the MS- I know someone else who has this. Yes, live in the moment!! We do what we can do and hopefully enjoy! Thank you so much for the nomination and for your lovely words Sue regarding my stories! I may have to pass on this one though at the moment.
You and your camera is a brilliant team – love that you how you have captured the depth.
Many thanks, Wivi!
Ah Cadair! I remember toiling up the Fox’s path – basically a scree run – with my Dad on a very hot summer’s day about fifty-five or more years ago.
Why did we do these things on such hot days? Mad dogs and Englishmen 😀
You have captured the sombre feeling of this mountain Sue, and your Haiku captures that feeling in words well chosen.
Thank you, Pauline! I was quite pleased with those haiku
Take care of yourself.
Thank you, Allan
I love how you capture this place in two very different haiku, Sue. I love how on one climb the black rock is “glowering” and is “unfathomable.” On the other climb, it seems like it will be a success, but alas, it wasn’t to be: the last of the sunlight is “taunting.” I know you will dream of reaching that peak even if you’re never able to do so. But what makes the poems so moving is that yearning that may never be realized, yet IS realized in your words. Thanks so much for sharing this. 🙂
Many thanks, Cathy…I’m pleased you enjoyed these
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Nice to come back here, Sue. I barely remember this one. The photo is wonderful. How come you never write poetry these days? No yen for it? 🙂 🙂
My muse has gone on a long vacation, Jo!!
Unlike yourself, Sue 🙂 🙂