The road to the Monastery reminded Godfrei of childhood fireside stories. Of landscapes belonging to the Faery Queen and tribes of old. Her whispers in the hedgerows that enchant the riders from their horses into the thicket. Beyond the world of living and into the worlds of the hills and mounds. The twisting lanes, oaks that appeared as old men standing with twisted limps and shadows of those long gone. As they journeyed into the valley, they descended under the sun line, as if heading towards the core of the earth. The horizon now disappearing. As the hazy light obscured his vision, he just closed his eyes and was absorbed into the sounds of the land. The rhythmical chant of the horses, the gentle thud on the earth, the birds singing in his heart, an ensemble of nature. They all seemed to move now as One, not six riders on horseback, but One instrument.
The scuffing sound of the horse hooves brought Godfrei into the world again directly opposite the gates of the Abbey. He had suddenly re-entered the world, his ears unable to adapt to the bustling villagers. The locals with their carts and commotion of deliveries, was a sight he hadn’t been accustomed to for so long. The journey from the Bay had been in secret, in the dark of night, until now. His heart raced within his ribs. Was this real?
Was that his name?
There again!
His riders were all dismounting!!!
He knew this voice calling in the crowd, now arms stretched out towards him.
He was slower, wearier, than the others, his hearing too dismissive from the long time alone in his own thoughts, and now, the back-and-forth noises.
“Godfrei, dear Brother, are you well? Come, come we have been waiting for so long to welcome you, come”.
As he looked with pinpointing precision a brown sullen figure with the familiar voice emerged as if from the walls of the sandstone bricks. It was Adam. Their eyes connected and Godfrei felt the highest zeal of energy. Joy flooded through him. He leaped down off the horse, in one long lurching movement. His legs unflexing from the sleepiness felt like blocks of wood, and pain rose to his hips, with stiff staggering steps he lumbered forwards. Adam with the same furry of excitement stretched out and wrapped his flapping brown sleeves over Godfrei like the wings of a swan, a shout of praise, streaming notes of a psalm, both in rapture abound one another.
Godfrei was home. His legs buckled and Adam lifted him upon his chest with cries of “home now Brother you made it. We have you now, all is well. There will be a feast at Heaven’s order, to welcome you this day. Come, come Brother no more does your body need to wither and wane in the tests of Our Father. Be inside the dwelling of Our Mother’s House, for you are truly a blessed sight, come, come, dearest Brother”.
Godfrei could have sworn that he had passed out then spent the day wavering without his faculties. In the proceeding hours the Brothers took care of his bodily needs as expected. They washed him, inspected his wounds, delt with his injuries, dressed him in robes of their Order, fed him, prayed over him. After the blessing by the hand of the Abbot, he was granted rest in a private dormitory, Adam would reside with him also, taking care of all his needs. Tomorrow would be a day of the first transcriptions, but right now he could not even grasp the first words to describe what had begun so long ago. And all he wanted was rest… all his body wanted was rest. The only thing that kept him going was the picture in his mind of this Abbey.
He would not see his Brethren travellers until the transcriptions were complete. Just as protocol dictated, for fear of merging details and inaccurate misgivings. Beyond that, he still needed to deliver the charge in his possession, which remained with him all day, always within arm’s reach. The task was not yet complete. He let out a long sigh and heard Adam stir nearby, “will this journey ever end”.
Photographs taken by JT Salmon and recreated with Copilot.
This morning I heard voices. I clung to the table in front of the window and eyed out into the daylight as I saw two people walking briskly by, I remember that, they walked side by side. I froze, they laughed, as they snaked the path into the greenness and were gone. It seems so long since I fixed my sights on other people. They were dressed for hiking with sturdy foot wear, like mine, I remember them stuck in the mud.
You know I wasn’t even sure at this moment that my voice actually still worked, I hadn’t spoke for so long. I hadn’t even talked out loud to myself, not a word, not a hum, a song, a phrase, nothing. I’m now aware that I need to be ready, I need to rehearse my vocal cords.
I have been following a set routine to last the day, finding comfort in the conformity. The cabin now seems familiar and I feel I have come to know every floor board, the ones that creak, where the drafts come in, where the sun rises, the sound of the birds, the stream running at the back of the cabin and the wind and the sound it makes brushing the leaves.
Something is not right within me. I see the world outside, people walking, talking and laughing, I stay quiet within, I hold my breath within, I keep myself within. There is fear within these walls and fear outside of these walls. I no longer have the presence of comfort. I feel I can not rest. So why do I stay hidden when I want so much to be found, to be rescued?
For this week’s Weekly Photo Challenge, please post a photo that is unusual in some way for you, whether it be through technique, by subject, or in some other unique way. This theme is wide open to interpretation because only you know what is unusual to you.
I visit my local beach often and on this day the clouds seem to create a filter for the sunlight. The light seems to stream in creating an unusual dramatic effect.