It is fair to say that we’ve had a lot of rain of late, granted not as much as the poor folk of Hebden Bridge, but nonetheless it is only the canny and the quick witted who have managed to find dry rock over the last month or two. Some might stress themselves over this inconvenience but not Big G; as the rain pours down and the rivers swell he finds time to reflect and contemplate his relationship with the boulders.
Dear NWB.com readers,
Ever sat on a mat, distracted between bouts of exertion; and allowed your attention to wander from the form of the problem to the form of the rock, the aesthetics, shapes sculpted by an unimaginable process?
Then have you not paused and wondered at our flash presence upon the scene?
Of course you have.
We have all marvelled beyond the move, and come to love boulders as old friends.
It is not the naming and recording of physical feats or groups of rocks but rather this closeness that elevates bouldering beyond the lesser forms of climbing with their simplistic and vulgar pursuit of summits.
So we are blessed - beauty is in the eye of the boulderer - and we can enjoy them for their own sake even if they are featureless, too small, too far up hills, too urban.
And so; we do not mind when the rain comes; we remain philosophical, patient as erratics and enjoy the cleansing process. (It is almost as though the longer it rains the stronger we all become, at every level.)
Instead we are psyched for all those glorious tomorrows; rain on these rocks is just like a dab of water on the baby's head!
What is wisdom without passion
Strength without gentleness
Er...Power without patience
Love to all