On the way up to ST. CAT'S the way is definitely a path at the beginning BUT path-features fizzle-out as one looks ahead up the incline once one has passed-thru the kissing-gate where path is hardly more than slightly worn and bruised green turf. ST. CAT'S CHAPEL looms above under cloud and i find myself recalling and deliberating on a verse of WENDELL BERRY'S that by some synchronicity i had flicked at hours earlier at home B4 the intention arose to go to ABBOTSBURY B4 the intention to take a bus somewhere along the JURASSIC to which i am local. ROAD becomes PATH. PATH becomes WAY. WAY becomes this PLACE. A place where one arrives in every moment. PATH becomes PLACE. (Goldy Hermitage / 6 - 7 March / 2016)
"THERE IS A DAY
WHEN THE ROAD NEITHER
COMES NOR GOES, AND THE WAY
IS NOT A WAY BUT A PLACE."
Wendell Berry from THE COLLECTED SABBATH POEMS (A Timbered Choir)