Day 4. Heart Stone

 We left lovely Rothbury and followed the route of St Oswald's Way towards the coast at Warkworth, with its ruined, imposing castle. It wasn't the castle I wanted to visit, but the beautiful walk along the River Coquet. We had left behind the wild windiness and walked in sunshine, shaded at times by lush woodland that grows beside the footpath, whilst orchids sheltered amongst the long meadow grasses. We stopped at the mooring for the boat to the Hermitage before taking the road up towards the castle, walking beside golden barley and back to the town. 

The afternoon took us Northwards towards our stay on Lindisfarne and the rain swept in from the west. By the time we reached the latter stages of the A1 we were driving in monsoon conditions, which continued as we crossed the Causeway. We had about half an hour before the end of the 'safe crossing' time, before the tide comes in and the Causeway is impassible. As we turned towards the Island a stream of cars were travelling in the opposite direction, there were perhaps twenty cars queuing at the A1 junction and more came towards us. I have only visited Lindisfarne in the winter before and I was totally unprepared for the amount of traffic we encountered, and this, the local's tell me, is just the beginning of the busy summer months.

We checked in to our lovely B&B, just off St Cuthbert's beach. As the day visitors left the Island we walked out of the village towards the Gertrude Jekyll garden, one of my favourite places, even in the winter. The winter barrenness had disappeared amidst woven willows of sweet peas, waving yellow and white daisies and blue-violet flowers with feathered foliage, lavender, roses, poppies and cornflowers. I relaxed into the scent and the sun as skylarks sang in the meadow beyond the protective stone walls of the garden.

We moved onto the rocky eastern beach, with its amazing variety of wonderful stones. It was there I found the heart stone.

Sometime ago a stray cat was mewing sadly beneath my living room window. 'Don't listen, Hilary,' I told myself. 'Harden your heart.' I feed the birds in my garden and try to discourage the local community cats.

Then I heard the words I had just spoken to myself, 'harden your heart'. If our hearts harden the muscles can't work, they loose the flexibility that allows them to pump, the blood vessels harden and blood cannot flow through. If our physical hearts harden we die. I realised that if I hardened my heart against love, against kindness, then this, also, would be a death of sorts. I fed the cat.

Sometime after this I was at a conference and heard the words. 'Your heart must be so open the wind can blow through'. Now, as I held the heart stone with its pattern of tiny holes it reminded me of this phrase, as though the wind was opening it up, making it porous, perhaps teaching me something.....