The cloaks we wear..........

 

 

I enjoyed my amble up the Tamar. It may not have been under sail all the way BUT next time it will be having now got a lie of the land ...and channel.

 

It felt strange returning to normality. As Arwen and I approached the last meander before arriving at Weir Quay, we became more conscious of 'normality' descending.  We were moving from the peace and quiet of rurality to the buzz and 'hyper' business of urban life; from gentle upper tidal riverine life with its reed beds, mud banks and soundtrack of birds, livestock and gurgling river current; to a sound track of trains, cars, factory hums and dockyard clangs.

 

It felt a melancholy journey back , that last two nautical miles or so from Weir Quay to the two Tamar bridges and as we passed beneath them, I knew our micro adventure was over. The cloak of 'mini explorer' slid from my shoulders to be replaced by the one labelled 'father, husband, teacher, bread winner'. Don't get me wrong I love wearing the latter cloak; an immense privilege resulting in me becoming such a better person than I would have been without wearing it. But, just occasionally, it is nice to take it off, hang it up on a hook, and take off the pegs another cloak, a different one, just for a few days.

I hope I have been able to share with you a sense of the wonder, beauty and privilege it is to live next to the stunning World Heritage Site that is the Tamar Valley.