I’ve mentioned before how much I like the sound of running
water in the darkness, and how there’s a deep drainage ditch near my house in
which the water coming off the land splashes and gurgles after a period of
rain. We’ve had a lot of rain today, and the water in the ditch was in good
voice when I went out tonight.
I first became enamoured of the sound when I was working as
a photographer. On one trip to the Lake District, I stayed at Glenridding Youth Hostel which stands alongside Red Tarn Beck. The dorm I used was
on that side of the building, and I could hear the water babbling over the
rocks before I went to sleep. The sound took a hold of me then, and it’s never
relinquished its grip.
Tonight I took to wondering just what the reason is for my
fascination. Is it, perhaps, a sense of mystery generated by the sound of
unseen movement? Or is it that the energy of running water glows brighter in
the darkness. I don’t know. Suggestions are invited.
When I got to M’Lady’s house, I found that the small gully running
alongside their cottage was also in spate, so there was splashing and gurgling
aplenty there, too. I liked that; it engendered a sense of connection, however
fanciful, or even fantastical, it might have been.
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