Good Grief 197

Bricks and mortar
I took this photo as I waited for the valuer.
I was going to say I don't know what to write but just writing that sentence makes me cry instantly, so clearly there's a tale to tell, that wants to be told, in there somewhere ... cemented into the bricks of mortar, the blood and bones and the heft of what it evokes.
Where to begin ... I just don't know.
I'm not sure if it's an old tale or a new one, or the inextricable warp and weft of the fabric of ourselves that simply cannot be unpicked without losing the thread (so to speak).
I suppose I feel as though I have lost the thread most of the time. 
It is partly to do with sense of place. I wasn't born here, I didn't actually live here but it is those stones, flint, in particular, that hold that sense of unknown origin, that geological enigma that we just don't quite understand but which jumbles together to form buildings, round towers, implements, lights fires ... little bits of silica, accretions, constellations, chemical reactions and strange nodules ... that we just don't quite understand.
I don't know what I'm rambling on about other than it's all to do with 'part of'.... deeply connected....
It was too hot. I didn't know what to do. I knew I had a long way to go but couldn't leave. It was a limbo time. I couldn't 'relax' into the day knowing how far I had to go and with things to do so ended up striking out over the marsh. A driven sense of testing... a 'damn it...you either sit and do f-all, or you put one foot in front of the other'.
As I walked I thought more of Brexit and struggled again to understand why. What has happened to our humanity. I had listened to a story of car park attendants locally having to wear cameras in their lapels to capture abuse. I listened to the couple next door hurling shocking abuse at each other. Something is deeply rotten and we are continuing to 'other' and separate when it feels so important to feel 'part of', to work with connection ... As Europe responds to Turkey talking of reinstating the death penalty, it is the prospect of the union that makes a difference ... it is a combined voice that holds values and which might just create some moderation, some stability, some sense of common humanity.
Anyway, enough ....
I walked, I left the mainland and struggled to find my route across to the island ... and I struggled back again. What for, I don't know but the place knows me, I know it ....I knew it would be hard work and would stop me crying for a bit.