Springs

11/2/12 - Saturday
Well, we've started it! The journey through the Cotswolds and down to Ashton Keynes was long, slow, windy and increasingly snowy. It seemed as though we would never arrive, but conversation with friends passed the time in a pleasant 'catch up of news, family and general chit chat' sort of way.
We parked in a carpark in Ashton Keynes without any idea of where we were and, whilst the others changed boots, socks and donned hats, gloves and rucksacks, I tentatively made my way across the frozen wastes of the carpark to ask a lady about a possible pub with a possible coffee. It turned out that the village shop did hot drinks so we headed there and bought said coffees and awaited the arrival of the taxi that would take us to the start of our trek-the source of the River Thames.
The lady taxi driver was an angel and took us as close to the field that led to the path that led to the stone that marked the source. We tumbled out, waved goodbye and set off across the snowy fields, bemused by the animal tracks that went hither and thither but somehow guided us the mile or so to the old ash tree and the stone carved with the words denoting that we were there! Standing next to the stone we saw it, drawn in the snow, a heart..........reassurance Mark approved of what we were doing.
Photographs duly taken, off we went back again but this time following the signs marked 'Thames Path'.
There was, at this point, no water, none at all, but the line of the valley was clearly visible in the vast and empty whiteness. The end of the first and then the second field, across a lane and then there it was, almost still, almost black, but there, bubbling up from a spring, forming a crystal clear pool and then flowing silently like a velvet ribbon in the sparkling sunshine. We were in awe of the wonder of it. It was like witnessing a birth, just as I knew it would be; new life springing from the darkness, new hope springing from nothing, a miracle of a new being emerging, struggling, wriggling, fighting to breathe, to survive. Nurtured by the ancient trees, the soft banks, the gentle reeds, and warmed by the wintery sun this young river began to sing her song. As we stood, a white feather drifted down. It beckoned me to notice it, to watch, as it drifted silently down to land safely on the water and was carried away, inviting us to follow it, guiding us, urging us to take the next steps onwards.
We walked, we talked, we watched and wondered as the path led us through glades, copses, over styles, along roads, busy and otherwise to a delightful Cotswold village-Sommerford Keynes- for lunch. So welcome! Not sure if we were weary or wonderstruck but lunch was wonderful and it was hard to leave the warmth and friendliness of the The Baker's Arms pub.
With a little detour we refound the path, which stretched past past silvery lakes, and ridiculous ducks; the sun beginning to slide down the sky, signalling the beginning of the end of a perfect day. We strode on, the river racing ahead of us, giggling and teasing us back to the car.
Walking with friends, sharing our lives, our children, our hopes and dreams, whilst at the same time doing something not insignificant, felt good and the journey home was peaceful, reflective and comfortable, as we chatted quietly or lost ourselves in our own thoughts. It was like returning to a grey, green and brown landscape from the pure, sparkling white Narnia world, in which we had spent a few magical hours.
On arriving home and glancing upwards, high in the indigo sky was Orion's belt, three diamonds straight and true, and Mark's star in M78 was there too, shining in the darkness, a tangible symbol of the existence of another sphere, another realm.
Inspired, encouraged and reassured we can't wait to return to Ashon Keynes to rejoin the path, to greet our toddler river with a smile, to continue our journey..........