A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

(Is a picture really worth the same as a thousand words? I don't really think so. There is a power in words that pictures just don't have, but then there's a power in pictures that words don't have. I don't think it's fair to judge the on the same scale. It's really just a cliche that works as a title...)

So my last post was about the Beauty of the University Parks here in Oxford. My daddy emailed me telling me how he liked my post and wished I'd put up more pictures of flowers. So I decided to dedicate this post to pictures to give a glimpse of the Beauty that I've described. Especially for you, Daddy! :)

Here we go, snapshots of the flowers in the University Parks!

Bright Pink Bell-looking Flowers

Tall, Fluffy, Exotic White Plants

Ah, lovin the contrast. Dark pink, pale green. Magnificent!

SO RED!!!!

Today I discovered something new: A popcorn plant!

Such a Deep Blue

Cool, deep maroon contrasted beautifully with the white

Fire Flowers. Super Cool-Looking

Don't the bright colors make you feel like you're looking at pictures of a jungle?

It's a jungle out there! 

Momma Flowers—super rich purple!!

Falls in the UK aren't exactly like fall in the North East....

But there's Beauty to be found everywhere! 

Alright, there are my pictures to back up last post. Since I'm in the process of uploading photos, I figured I'd also upload a few more cool ones.

The next few are from the other night when I watched the sunset from the castle mound. I was going to go to a church service at 6, but then decided (after already going out) to go to my church service at 7. I had an hour to kill, so I went to the Oxford Castle. Old castle, made a slave to consumerism, now a fancy hotel/restaurant/bar and big tourist attraction. It's a pretty cool place despite my critical description of it's function. Thankfully, it was evening when I went, and the tourist function of the castle was done for the day. The castle mound is literally just a big hill next to the castle that's been preserved for a long time and now they make tourists pay to climb it. I, of course, did not go during tourist hours, so the shop to buy a ticket was closed.... so I hopped the fence. I sat on top and looked at the breathtaking night sky. It was lovely.

The cool green steeple behind me

This is the city where I go to school.... Too cool.

And one last picture: I was walking around Oxford today because I was supposed to meet my friends in a pub to do work, but when I got there, they were MIA (I ended up finding them later. Happy day!). I decided to walk around until I could figure out where to study, and I ended up walking down this long, windy, narrow cobblestone back street with tall walls enclosing both sides. It was so magical. I loved it. And I imagined these being the kind of walls that Jean Valjean scaled to get into the garden of the convent. It was one of those dorky English major moments when a book came to life on a new level for me. Ah, what a beautiful place I live in!

Well, that's all for now. I'll write more stories later, as in, when it's no longer 4 am. Mer.

Evolution of Beauty

I had a thought today that I wasn't sure what to do with. It wasn't quite poem material, and I couldn't reduce it down to a one-liner for a facebook status, so I figured I'd write about it on my blog. That's allowed, right?

This thought occurred to me while I was walking my familiar path in the University Parks. First of all, I love the University Parks. In the middle of this very busy, fast moving metropolis of Oxford there are these sacred 91 acres of beautiful, green wilderness. Of course, it's not really wilderness. There are paths and beautiful benches scattered about, but in contrast to the city, it's a wilderness. There's a beautiful river which flows through part of it and a duck pond in one corner of it. There are big open cricket fields, and parts where thick underbrush and trees grow wild. There are flower beds full of flowers with colors you cannot even imagine, and it's all so peaceful. What a beautiful retreat from the busyness of the city.

As I was walking this familiar path today, it hit me how strange it was that there was such a distinct difference between my feelings in response to the park at that very moment in time and my feelings when I first adventured through the parks down that path. The Beauty had somehow evolved. (Sidenote: Dear conservative friends, please do not be offended that I'm using the world evolution. It is not an evil thing, and I'm just using it to mean the gradual change of something overtime. I love you a lot.)

So what was the difference? Well, when I first walked through the parks, there was a certain Beauty in the newness of it all. Every field had exciting potential, every tree possessed a secret, every path took me to a new world. It was thrilling, and adventurous, and undeniably beautiful. I knew it was Beautiful in and of itself before I reacted to it. I just brought the adventure and thrill with me in my experience. But then my feelings today were much different. Today the path wasn't exactly thrilling, and it certainly didn't feel like it was an adventure. Today the path was Beautiful because it was familiar. I knew the path. It knew me. It was like walking with an old friend. There was Beauty in remembering, remembering the excitement of the beginning, and there was Beauty in feeling like I belonged there.

I'm realizing that this is almost always how I experience Beauty. There's always a point when I'm first introduced to the Beauty and I love it for its thrill and adventure, but then as I become familiar with it, it changes completely. I react to it differently; I perceive it differently. I think sometimes we make the mistake of letting the familiar stage be the stage when we stop appreciating Beauty. When the thrill wears off, so does, in our minds, the Beauty. But I'm convinced that Beauty is a constant. If something is truly Beautiful, then it remains Beautiful for as long as it remains (though that's not to say that when it changes, it's not possible for the changed object to be Beautiful as well. It certainly might be. It would just have to be reassessed). I want to continue to see the Beauty in things even when the newness wears off. I'm so glad I've been able to do that here in Oxford. Everything here is so overwhelmingly Beautiful. I can't stand to think I could ever take it for granted.

I wrote in a post a couple weeks ago that Oxford has become "normal for me but not exactly." I'm thinking now that Oxford's Beauty has just evolved, or rather, my perception of the Beauty of Oxford has evolved. At first, it was Beautiful, new, thrilling, and adventurous, and now it's familiar, comforting, almost homey, and still Beautiful. Ah, I live in such a Beautiful world. And ya know what? This is the same world I lived in back in the States. Amazing that I had to fly halfway across the world to realize the Beauty of my home. God is so good. There is Beauty everywhere, sometimes we just have to look intentionally to find it.

Here's the view from the bench I sat on today: The duck pond!

The sky was magnificent. The sun was super bright.

So blessed.

Kiss me I'm Irish! (It all makes sense...)

Ok, I'll admit it. I don't always make the best decisions in the world. I often tell myself that plans are overrated and that spontaneity and last minute decisions are perfectly acceptable in all circumstances, but they're just not. Especially if you're going to go camping through Ireland. You have to have a plan. Well... I didn't, but amazingly, I didn't die. Allow me to relate the story about how my incredibly stupid unplanned trip turned into one of the greatest experiences of my life.

The beginning of my trip was just a harbinger for the disaster I was walking into. I started completely on the wrong foot. I had printed out some maps and accidentally left them in my room. Then, we were in London for the day for a field trip to the Imperial War Museum which is not a terribly uplifting museum. When I tried to find Paddington Station where I was to catch my first train, I got lost thanks to my lack of maps. I found a place with free wifi and searched for the station on my iPod, but when I arrived at the destination that the map led me to, there was no station. Well, shoot. I wandered about and found Baker street (221B Baker Street, anybody? :) ) But, I wasn't looking for Baker street. I was looking for Paddington Station. I finally stumbled upon a map display of the part of city I was in and discovered the general direction I had to go to get to Paddington. It was much further away than I anticipated...

I made it to the station around 6 (Pretty sure I left the museum around 3. Mer.) And my train was to leave at 8. I was planning on having much more extra time, and I was planning on using that extra time to go find an emergency bike pump. Unfortunately, by the time I got to the station, figured out how to collect my tickets, reserved a place for my bike on all the different trains, and got a little food in my belly, my time was very limited, and I was exhausted. Oh, and then it started pouring. Nice. I gave up hope of finding a bike pump. Bad planning.

Side note: You know that game 'Simon Says'? Well, I discovered that it applies to real life. The dean of student affairs for our program here is named Simon. Before I left, I chatted with Simon about my trip, and Simon said to make sure I had a puncture kit and bike pump for my bike. I did not do what Simon said, and you know what? I lost. Big time. I should've remembered that from kindergarten. If you don't do what Simon says, you lose.

My journey to Ireland was easy enough. I sat next to a kind fella from Saudi Arabia named Faisal on the first train, and he waited with me for my next train in Wales because it was late and he didn't want me to be alone. It was very kind. After a nice nap on that next train, I arrived at the ferry port around 1am. I checked in and was told I could bring my bike on the boat without the £9 fee. That was awfully nice. The boat was beautiful. Like a cruise ship! I didn't want to pay for a room though, so I slept on the floor in the hallway next to a plug so I could charge my iPod. I got up around 5 am hoping to see the sunrise, but it was dark until 7. We arrived in Ireland around 6:45, and I made my way to the beach hoping to see a light show.



The view was lovely, though not as spectacular as I was hoping. The romantic in me was ready to be blown away. I enjoyed the view, but honestly, I was let down. It was too cloudy to see the sun come up from the sea, and it was really, really cold. But I was still hopeful. I had the whole weekend before me! I wouldn't be discouraged that easily.


Well, I started my journey into town and quickly had to come to terms with the fact that my back wheel was basically flat. I was in a little tiny Irish fishing village with a flat wheel and no pump. Oh and it was 7 o'clock in the morning, so nothing was open. I was tired and cold, and the place where I wanted to camp that night was 8 miles away. I started biking, but the roads were bumpy and I could feel my back wheel resisting every rotation (I will never again fail to do what Simon says...). After weighing my options, I decided to just start biking south. I didn't know what I was expecting to find down there, but I knew I couldn't just sit around in the cold waiting for the town to wake up. It had rained the night before so the roads were wet, the air was cold, and the skies were dark. The land was overgrown and anything but beautiful. I wasn't prepared for that. Nature was supposed to teach me about Beauty and inspire wonder within me, instead it was discouraging me more and more with every hill I biked up. Wordsworth hadn't prepared me for this one!

After a little while, I saw a sign for St. Margaret's beach. I thought maybe if I could get to the beach, everything would be better, so I turned off the main road to follow the sign. The road was predominantly uphill. I couldn't help but seriously question my sanity. After what seemed like forever, I made it to the end of the tiny little "road" and was greeted by the beautiful sight of the sea.

It still wasn't terribly sunny, but it was beautiful and I felt a bit more at peace. I was so tired that I took a nice 2 hour nap in the sand, and when I woke up, I was greeted by the full splendor of the landscape.

The sun was shinning bright, and there were people walking along the beach. There was even a person riding their horse through the shallow water. It was breathtaking. I was finally feeling like I had made a good decision in coming to Ireland. I locked up my bike and went to explore a bit on foot. I decided to follow the coast down to the point which was about 2 miles south. It was a gorgeous walk. The weather was perfect for walking. Cool but not too cold.

After walking along, perfectly content, singing my Irish songs and meeting a nice herd of cows (they were actually terrifying....) I made it to the point. I climbed down the large, cliff-like shore to stand on the rocks right by the water. I even got splashed a little because I was standing so close to the sea. I sang some Little Mermaid and then turned back to get back to my beach.

The path was enchanting. The sunshine was beautiful and made the sea look unreal. I sat on a rock and played a bit of penny whistle and made a caterpillar friend. I was so very content that I forgot all about the terrible morning. I had all the confidence in the world in my "plans," and was thrilled that I would be camping on that
beautiful beach I had found that morning.

On the way back to the main beach, I passed a field where there was an older gent in a tractor. I waved (since I learned that it's the Irish way) and he smiled real big and waved back. By the time I had made it back to the pier, the same man was there getting off his tractor. He asked me if I was lost, and I told him I was just exploring. Since I was clearly not Irish, he asked what I was doing there and we chatted for a bit. His name was Jackie. I asked him if there was any good pub nearby where one could get a nice dinner, and he got all concerned that there wasn't a place close enough that he could send me to. "Uoh Jayzus" he kept saying in his thick Irish accent as he rubbed his head, wracking his brain for a place to send me to. In the end I told him not to worry about it, that I had a bit of food on me yet and that I didn't really need a pub. He asked if I wanted a ride on his tractor over to the other side of the beach where my bike was, and I said sure! (He later scolded me for doing that and told me that it wasn't safe taking rides from strangers :P) He dropped me off and gave me €20 to buy myself dinner in exchange for a kiss on the cheek. It was too cute.

I went and set up my tent in a place that Jackie suggested, away from where people sometimes went for some "courtin'," as he called it. It was perfect. My tent was up, the sunshine was warm, and I had a feast of bread, cheese, carrots, nuts, and an apple for dinner. I sat on the beach in the sun and ate while I wrote a few letters. The evening was beautiful.

And then came the night.... Remember that thing about me not always making the best decisions? Well, one of my not-so-great decisions was deciding not to bring a sleeping bag. I didn't have room in my bag when I put the tent in there, so I just opted out of bringing one. It was freezing cold, and I didn't have a sleeping bag! I have never been more cold in my life. I was seriously concerned that I was going to get hypothermia. My fear of that was almost worse than the cold. I'm not sure what it feels like to freeze to death, but I'm fairly certain I got a taste of it that night. I shivered so much that I thought my arms and legs were going to fall off. I would "sleep" for hour increments and then wake up and roll up tighter into a ball to try to produce a little more heat. I prayed so hard that God would just get me through the night, and, praise Him, He did. I awoke the next morning to this sight...

"The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; His mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness!"

It was magnificent!! The sunrise out of the sea which I had been so eager to see. I'm so blessed. I got out of my tent and walked along the beach soaking in the sunshine. It felt so good to be warm. After taking a bit of a walk, I sat down on a rock near my tent and nearly fell asleep sitting up. I decided I'd crawl back into my tent and hopefully get a couple more hours of real sleep. The sun had warmed my tent so it was like sleeping in a sauna. So good after being so cold during the night! I slept so soundly for the next hour that I woke up feeling like I had slept the day away. Seeing that it was only 10 am, I let myself sleep a bit longer and then was awakened an hour later by a frightening sound.

"HALLO?! Is anybody in there?? Hallo??" It was a man's voice, and my first thought was that I was going to be yelled at for setting up a tent on the beach. I wasn't sure if I should respond, but I couldn't think clearly since I was just walking up. I made some kind of noise to show I was there, and then the voice continued, "It's me! Jackie, from yesterday!" Ah! How good is the voice of a friend. My heartbeat dropped back down to normal, and I poked my head out to see what was up. Jackie said he had worried about me being out all by myself with no food (I told him the day before that I had food, but he didn't think it was sufficient), and that I was to come to breakfast. I wasn't sure if it was very safe to go to a random man's house, but I had run out of water and I knew I wouldn't last another night on my own, so I packed up my tent and followed Jackie's directions to his house.

When I arrived, I was greeted by the beautiful face of his wife, Eileen. Thank God for her. She told me to sit down at the table where this feast was set out. They gave me the best tea I've ever had and homemade brown bread and scones, and then after only a couple minutes, Eileen brought out the real breakfast. Eggs, a pile of potatoes, a couple sausage links, big chunks of bacon, and all cooked to perfection! It was a breakfast fit for a queen.

I was informed that I was not allowed to camp by myself anymore, and Eileen showed me their spare bedroom where I would stay. She didn't give me much of a choice. She bossed me around like a regular momma. It was wonderful.

After a slightly awkward breakfast of getting to know each other, I informed my generous hosts of my flat wheel, and within 5 minutes Jackie was out the door to find me a pump. He borrowed a pump from a neighbor and had my bike ship-shape in no time. Eileen told me she'd go with me on a bike ride to the point, and we had a wonderful time. As we rode, she told me all about everything. The people who owned the different plots of land, the history of her family and where they all are now, the quirks of the area, the economic situation of Ireland. It was incredible. I was seeing Ireland through the eyes of her people.

More than anything else, Eileen talked to me about the economic difficulties of Ireland. She lamented over the greed and deception of recent government leaders and explained to me how it used to be in the good old days. She nostalgically spoke of the days where the small farmers made a good living off their land, getting a bit of extra money collecting Periwinkles (a kind of snail that they would sell to France) or catching crab and lobster. The little fishing town was not nearly as vibrant or thriving as it used to be thanks to the debt of the country and all the new laws and regulations for farmers. My heart broke for these people. And yet, I was inspired by them. Despite their hardships, they lived beautiful lives in intimate community.


On our way back from the bike ride, Eileen took me to the pier where some of her fishing pals were just coming in with a catch of crabs. We didn't go there to do anything. Eileen just wanted to see her friends and be with them as they did life. It was so cool to watch them interact and help each other out. It was also cool to see all the crabs! Eileen told me that the man in this picture of the boat is the best crab fisherman in Carne. The man on the left, Sean, is a gruff old fisherman who was there to help the man unload the crabs. He was so cute. His overalls were buttoned in the wrong spots and he looked positively disheveled. It was adorable.




After the crabs were all loaded into a trailer, Eileen and I headed back to the house for tea. There were more scones and brown bread, tea, and lots of biscuits (aka cookies). She kept offering more food and was offended if I didn't eat it. It felt like being back with my Nonna.

After tea, Eileen decided she wanted to show me the cute little fishing village of Kilmore Quay (pronounced 'key'). When I was first "planning" my trip, I had wanted to visit there, but it was a good 20 miles from the coast, and I didn't feel like basing my entire trip on the long bike ride there and back. But there I was getting to go after all! I was so thankful. We looked around a bit, and then we bought some fresh fish and chips to bring back with us. 

It was all so wonderful. When we got home, we sat down to eat together and Eileen even gave me a bit of white wine to go with my fish. I got the royal treatment, I'll tell ya! After I had eaten my fill, I noticed that the sun was going down, and I had really wanted to see the sun go down into the ocean. I asked Eileen if it would be alright if I was excused to go catch the sunset, and she seemed shocked by my politeness. She told me to do whatever I wanted and to stop worrying about them. I thanked them a million times and told them I'd be back soon. I hopped on my bike and rode like the wind to get to the point before the sun set. Well, I made it :)

From the point, I could look west to see the sun go down into the Atlantic

 It was ineffably beautiful. The millions of pictures I took barely scratch the surface of the Beauty of that moment. I'm so blessed!

Where I sat to watch the sunset

I made my way out of the cold back to the beautiful house that was waiting for me. I came in to find Eileen vacuuming the spare bedroom. She informed me that she had turned on the heated blanket (seriously?!) and everything was ready for me. She took me into the kitchen to feed me more, and I was introduced to this delicious dessert. Corn flour (custard type stuff) with rhubarb. MmmMmm! It was so good.  Eileen got really close to my face to watch me eat it. I think it brought her much happiness to see me enjoying it so much. Such a Nonna! :)

After I finished my dessert, Eileen brought me into the sitting room to watch "telly" with them. We watched an Irish game show! It was fantastic. During the boring parts we would chat and laugh together. It almost felt like Home. They brought me everywhere with them and treated me like I was part of the family. I met their son and his wonderful wife and adorable child the next morning. I watched the Irish hurling match with them during the afternoon (hurling = baseball + field hockey + soccer + lacrosse + football. But really, hurling = attractive men in very short shorts!) And then they took me to Bingo with them that evening. It was brilliant. They made me feel like I belonged there. They were so good to me.

On monday, my last full day, Eileen and I babysat Ryan, their grandson, all day. He was the cutest little thing you ever did see. He really liked me and always smiled when I was around. I was glad I could help out Eileen by helping watch him. It was the least I could do, and let's be honest, I had so much fun with the kid! Ryan's dad (Jackie and Eileen's son) Jonathan came over for tea and Eileen made me get some pictures with them on the tractor. She was so cute, always telling me to take pictures of everything.

Here's Jonathan and Ryan on their tractor. Eileen made me get up
with them so I could be in the picture :)

Well, after tea, Eileen took me on some errands with her. We went to the tiny little grocery store where Eileen knew everyone by name. I walked around with Ryan while Eileen got all the things she needed. We stopped by Eileen's brother's house and pet one of his horses. It was so fun, and Ryan was loving it. Afterwards, we came home and Eileen taught me how to make brown bread, scones, and bread pudding. We made all of that in under a half hour! It was crazy. She was so efficient. She taught me how to properly set the table for hosting people. She taught me her secrets of efficient cleaning. And she gave me lots of instructions about all the best ingredients to buy. I was so thankful, and she kept telling me it was nothing. She had no idea how much it meant to me.

After our delicious dinner of minced meat stew and potatoes (I made this for my food group yesterday. It came out pretty well!), we had to take Ryan back to his home. I went with Jackie to drop him off, and then Jackie showed me around Jonathan's farm. Jonathan is a bus driver just like Jackie and Eileen used to be before they retired, but he also has a farm which Jackie helps him with. It had rained a bit and then it was really sunny so there was a beautiful rainbow. I was so stricken by the magic of the whole thing.

The next morning I was to leave on the ferry at 9. I told Eileen that I would probably leave around 7 so I could get there on time on my bike and have enough time to board. She smiled and bid me good night and scolded me for the late-night walk which I took to see the moon over the sea. It was so nice having someone scold me for stupid decisions.

I woke up real early the next morning and got all my things packed up. I came into the kitchen where Eileen was already busy preparing pre-breakfast. She told me to sit down for some tea, but it was already 7 so I told her I didn't have enough time if I was to get there early enough on my bike. She looked at me like I was crazy and said matter-of-factly, "Jackie is going to take you in the jeep." And that was that. It was a, "Like, duh!" statement if I ever heard one. Eileen had me pack up all the things she was sending home with me—the brown bread we made, scones, leftover bread pudding, and the lunch she packed me for the ferry. I was so spoiled. Since I was up so early, we had about an hour to spend at breakfast together before I left. In contrast to our first breakfast together, it was perfect. We were talking up a storm and I was making them laugh. It felt like I had known them my whole life. Jackie got all my stuff packed into the car, and Eileen came out to see us off. I hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek and thanked her with all the sincerity and love I could express. She told me I was welcome back anytime and to take care of myself (no more camping on my own! she said). As we drove away, her eyes got all watery. She was such a gift from God. Here's a picture of them. My beautiful Irish parents.
 

                                           

When Jackie dropped me off at the ferry port, he was basically crying as well. He said he hated to see me go, but even more he hated saying good-bye. He was such a sap. But I love him. He made me give him a kiss before I left, and he told me he'd never forget me - "There aren't many like you," he choked out. Jackie was a bit of a goof at times, but he was sweet, and it was hard to say good-bye.

I got on my ferry alright (I got to board like a car. It was so much cooler than walking on as a foot passenger!) and found a spot on the top deck to watch the island disappear. It was kinda rainy and super windy so I wasn't able to play my penny whistle the whole time like I hoped to, but I did get a few songs in before we lost sight of her. It was a beautiful moment.

 After the long ferry ride and jumping from train to train (that proved much scarier for me than I had anticipated), I made it back to Oxford. The switching of trains was really tricky, but I was so blessed by people to help me all along the way. I made one friend who was going to see her grandson in London. She was such a beautiful lady. People are so very precious. Even though I tend to be drawn to the Beauty of Nature, sometimes I can't help but be amazed by the profound Beauty found in people. We are made in the image of God, and as such, we are Beautiful. Ah, so good!

So I'm home now. I'm doing laundry and preparing for the real start of my Oxford studies. I'm not quite sure what to expect. It might be really hard. So hard that it will be difficult to find any time to do more exploring or adventuring. But then, it might not. It might be perfectly manageable. I'm not sure. Today is the "Fresher's Fair" as they call it, which is basically like Ye Old Scotty Faire (which any Gordonites would understand). It's a huge fair when all the clubs and societies come out and give you free things and try to convince you to join them.  I like free things so I'm excited for it. I'm also going to see what I can find out about the Oxford a cappella groups. I desperately miss singing. So we'll see how that goes. Oh and I might try out to be in a play! I love the idea of being in a play at Oxford. How cool would that be.

All in all, I'm alive and well, and I'm ready to face the beginning of this next intense part of my year. Lots of new. Lots of opportunities. After my trip to Ireland, it's a little hard to change my mindset and settle down and go back to living a normal life. Doing laundry, cooking my own food, doing homework. But those things are essential to a balanced life. I realize I can't live in a dreamworld all the time. Besides, I don't think I would want to. It's good to embrace reality. Work is good. Waiting is good. Hard is good. I'm ready to work hard and suffer through hours of reading and writing. In the end, those are the kinds of things that improve character. Magical weekends in Ireland are Beautiful, but Beauty exists in the everyday, and I have to keep reminding myself of that. I was blessed this weekend. And I'm so blessed here at Oxford. I am blessed, and God is Good, always.