Melancholy has been a part of the fabric of my life for as long as I can remember - always 'a black dog flickers in and out of the shadows at the edge of the lawn'
A few years ago I came across these lines in Robert Macfarlane's 'Landmarks', which really resonated with me (love him or not, there are some true gems in his writing):
'Melancholy differs from grief in its chronic nature: it is an ache not a wound, it lies deeper down, is longer lasting, is lived with rather than died of...'
Challenged here to find the 'gold' in the melancholy, I walk in the early autumn woods, with my wonderful dog, and ponder the beauty of my surroundings.
In the lovely landscape where I am blessed enough to dwell, it isn't a difficult thing to see the gold 'anyway', in spite of the melancholy - the mists drift in from the sea, the leaves are turning, I have porridge in my belly...
But to find the gold IN the melancholy, now that is a different prospect, and for that I am going to have to dig much more deeply...
We have been rewatching 'Detectorists' by the fire of an evening. For those of you who think it is a lightweight British comedy about eccentric Englishmen searching the flat, grey Essex landscape for Saxon treasure, think again!
'Detectorists' is about finding the real gold, not the stuff you think you are looking for. Digging deep? Letting go...?
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