Goodbye sweet Vindolanda

I leave on the morrow. It makes me sad to think I will not see these hills for many months and years. This country has a beauty to it, a sense of tamed magnificence that Canada just doesn’t have. Canada’s beauty comes from the vast forests and expanses of the boreal shield, but England’s rolling hills and windswept fields touch a string on my heart.

I lived here once. I never truly appreciated the beauty of this place when I was a child, and I am glad to have had the opportunity to re-experience it. I have had a summer which I hope to rival in the future only by repeating my experience. Digging at Vindolanda has only whetted my appetite for archaeology and sharpened my thirst for knowledge. The people I have met and the friends I have made will stay with me for ever.

In saying this, though, I diminish the passion I feel for Canada. The comfort I feel in my home, the companionship of my friends and family, and the little things which make the difference between these countries of mine. I will be glad to come home.

I won’t be looking forward to the weather, though. A few overcast days would improve my mood considerably. Maybe I can have a cool breeze in the bargain. That would be nice.

Robin out.

One thought on “Goodbye sweet Vindolanda

  1. There is something in the air of Northumberland which speaks to our souls – the taste of the breeze coming in from Scotland, or the Lazy wind cutting its way across from the North Sea. Our forbears were Border Reivers – folk who scented the air for smells of burning, to tell where the latest raid from Scotland had crossed into our country and taken sheep and plunder. Beware your visit to your land of your fathers – it will follow you or the rest of your days….

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