A FULL HEART

My heart is full because we traveled.  Travel is like the best times with family.  That's all I can compare it to.  Those times when there's laughter, joy and excitement.  This was a long-awaited trip to Iceland, London (where we lived), and the Scottish Highlands.  

Travel is like that for me because I feel a rush of joy in all creation, in people and places and things.  In people who together stand by waterfalls in Iceland to feel the icy spray mingle with the cold air on our faces while the rush of plunging water conquers all other sound.  Or by the geysers where we feel the heat from deep underground and watch the steam rise and fall loudly in peaks and waves. I find myself saying "Thank you God," for a countryside of moss-covered volcanic rock, for sturdy Icelandic horses, and for the geothermal lagoons where we submerse ourselves in wonder even as it rains.  Cliche or not, the Blue Lagoon does seem supernatural, with milky blue water, rich minerals and wisps of steam all set amongst the black lava remains of aeons.  

The Blue Lagoon, Reykjavik

There is awe in North Carolina and closer to home to be sure.  But some places are just plain magical.   

In London we confront memories at every juncture.  As newlyweds we lived there, madly in love with the city and each other.  We sell our cherry-red Mustang for rent money and my husband has a small stipend to attend graduate school.  I get pregnant there twice.  

All Hallows by-the-Tower

Our love of travel began in London when we landed at Heathrow as the first stop on our honeymoon.  The city grows with each visit.  Three highlights this time:  entering St. Paul's cathedral to the sounds of the 12 change-ringing bells that announce worship in a clanging symphony; attending a play at The Globe, the outdoor stage replicating Shakespeare's theatre; and seeing again the magnificent brasses we rubbed those many years ago in All Hallows by the Tower.  

Our rubbing of the small Resurrection brass of Christ climbing out of his tomb hangs framed in my husband's study to this day.  And having seen again the magnificent full memorial brass of Andrew Evyngar (d. 1522) with his wife and children set on a replica of Flemish brocade, I will find a new place to hang our rubbing.    

In cities with long histories, it is often the artistry that people are drawn to, isn't it?  Stone masonry from centuries past, churches and towers, domes and arches.  I am wondering about the unknown artists who engraved the monuments made of sheet brass let into the sanctuary pavements, which we rubbed with gold heel-ball wax on black paper to keep forever.  This is why we wander churches and museums and sidewalks and squares and even parks, isn't it?  Because humans are capable of wondrous things too.  All of us.   

 Cladich Castle

In Scotland we again immerse in nature, in the Western Highlands.  We get from place-to-place by train, ferry, bus, van and taxi.  We see castles, long-horned shaggy cattle and sheep galore.  We climb green hills, eat grilled langoustines (a kind of shrimp-lobster-crayfish delight), hike in the most astounding places and meet the Scots.  We love the deep lochs, the high hills, the air and the people. 

 

Isle of Mull 

I know, we all do, that there are tragedies everywhere.  Personal, political, environmental.  Travel doesn't erase that.  There is much to pray for in every church visited, with every candle lit.  But we needn't apologize, I think, for appreciating God's good creation, for letting it renew our spirit.  After the past two years, seeing other peoples of the world is a good thing.  Having the time and money to travel is a blessing.   

Now that we're home, tomorrow I will look for ways to fill my heart in Durham, North Carolina.  But this trip is a gift I will not forget.  Hoping for the best for us all.        Nina Naomi