A few weeks ago Carina and I were walking along the beach near Muasdale when we met up with a local aquaintance, who was delighted to tell us he’d seen a rock uncovered by the tide with spirals carved into it.
He gave us good directions and, sure enough, we found the rock. It was partly covered with sand but we could make out some of the spirals.
In the ensuing weeks we have lost the rock (constant high tides and high winds) and found it (low tides and relatively calm), this time with all the spirals visible. It adds an exciting element to our walk. Will will see it, won’t we, and how will it look if we do see it? In that sense it has achieved the status of something wild.
In my last post I paid tribute to the Neolithic creators of rock art, to the way in which they combined art with spirituality to help others tune into their bioregion.
I feel that the anonymous sculptor who carved this rock (when exactly, we wonder – we might have been missing it for years for it could well be covered in sand during the summer months when we are most out and about) is doing the same for those of us my bioregion today. Spirals denote positive trajectories – we return to not-quite-the-same point, for although we move through cycles, we are achieving slightly higher ground each time.
We certainly need to nurture positive trajectories at the moment.