After my performance at the Sycamore Gap Tree I have decided to continue along a small rock path that climbs up the right hill.
Suddenly, from that altitude, a breathtaking panorama opens up and I cannot see the end. Imagination flies without limits. Around me there are fields with many shades of green and the wavy lines of the land seem to be a calm sea on which to float and enjoy the sky.
I take the footpath with my cello and my backpack in front of me. It is a considerable physical effort to walk with all that stuff but the motivation to explore that place makes me stronger.
I enojy the colors, the sound of the wind, the cold I look, the plants, the blades of grass, some spontaneous lakes, the cliff, the rocks and the sounds of the birds.
There were many people who ventured along that path like me that day and almost everyone stopped asking: “Excuse me, what's the story?” I realize that meeting a person walking like this and in these remote places is not exactly something that you often see!
After about 30 minutes, I find myself suddenly alone but always accompanied by a faithful, silent and ancient guide,the Hadrian's Wall. It shows me the way and silently offers protection and support.From behind the hill in front of me, a clearly local lady appears. I immediately ask her for information on how to get back to Haltwhistle: “You can continue for another 40 minutes, reach that road, pass it and walk another hour to Bardon Mill station”.
Wow, I am very fond of Bardon Mill, it is the station that I took exactly last year to return to London. I was wet, walking under a pouring rain that gave no hope of stopping.
I therefore venture off the path, cut the fields into the wild nature, luckily this nature is very gentle: there are no brambles, there are no bushes, there are no vipers or dangerous animals. After crossing the main road , the landscape changes. The colors are now more intense, the contrast is more defined, there are many more plants and in general everything seems more lush. It's probably a matter of altitude, to be honest before gettin to the main road I faced a long descent.
Once again I bathe myself in what lies in front of me. The sun, which had been trying to shine all day, finally finds an opening thorugh the thick clousa and creates a breathtaking sunset. The light passes through the shapes of the hills, illuminating the road that continues straight downhill in front of me. I am in silence, in solitude and in full contemplation.
The arrival at Bardon Mill station is quicker than expected. This is also a small station, like Corbridge, and it is very mysterious. I find myself particularly fascinated in railways and in these small stations of these little towns. There is something impalpable that fascinates me deeply.
It's time to get on the train now and say goodbye to these wonderful places. I will return back soon, I know and i hope.
𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭
This was only made possible thanks to public funding from the National Lottery through Arts Council England, Agostino Bran, Nicla Bravin, Silvana Vassili, Massimo De Mattia, Luigina Perosa, Izabela Puszczykowska, Brenda Neece Scott, CelloMuseum.org
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