RHYS BOWEN: I’ve always been intrigued with the nature versus nurture debate. Recently I’ve read some interesting things about how we carry ancestral trauma. Fascinating, right? If my ancestor was at the battle of Hastings I still bear that arrow wound? It’s hard to comprehend but I have one aspect of my life that I can’t explain otherwise:
I was born in Bath in the south west of England. After my father came home after WWII we moved to Kent, the garden of England. Orchards, small villages, farms. A very peaceful countryside. But my mother’s family came from Wales. My aunt Gwladys was passionately Welsh and when I was about eight she took me to North Wales because I needed to know where I came from.
It was a long journey in those days and we reached our village near Mt Snowdon after it was dark. I fell asleep, exhausted, then woke up to bright sunlight sneaking in through the gap in the drapes. I pulled them back and found myself staring at a mountain. Moel y Gest. By Welsh standards a small mountain. But I stared at it and something inside me said, “Yes. This is it. This is where you are supposed to be.”
My aunt and I hiked up that mountain and had quite an adventure trying to get down again, sliding down a face of scree and loose rock. Scary but exciting.
But the thing was that since then I have been drawn to mountains in a way I can’t explain. I now live in two places where I look out of my window and see mountains. This is my house in Arizona and view from my office window:
When John was transferred to Texas I was so miserable. I’d stare out at flat land and try and picture hills. I realized I need to see mountains to feel whole.
Isn’t that interesting. Definitely passed along from my Welsh ancestors. Nobody told me about mountains ahead of that experience with my aunt. I must have inherited some strand of DNA that makes mountains a necessity in my life, that ties me to some sort of ancestral homeland.
Some of my most memorable experiences have been seeing mountains. I was a student in Freiburg in the Black Forest and spent my weekends hiking there or in nearby Switzerland. When I saw the Matterhorn for the first time I just stood and stared in wonder. John had to drag me away in the end. I hiked up the path toward it and wanted to keep on going until I could touch it.
I love to go to Nice and gaze up at that coastline. And this summer I’m planning to go to Scotland, where I’ve set my next book. More mountains, although not as big.
So I’m interested to know whether anybody else has experienced anything like this… some sort of glimpse of ancestry, some tie to the past, some trait that has manifested itself from a past ancestor?
This is so interesting, Rhys, and although I myself have never had an experience such as this, I am definitely a believer in such possibilities. So, I hope you always see mountains wherever you go . . . .
ReplyDeleteThank you. Me too!
DeleteI come from farmers. I have to dig in the dirt. I am also at peace by the ocean.
ReplyDeleteI also love being by the ocean
DeleteSame here with the farmer lineage, Brenda! I've only recently gotten into gardening and never thought about the connection.
DeleteFascinating. I don't know if it's ancestral, but I grew up facing the San Gabriel mountains and camping in the Sierras every summer. When I fly west, once I cross the Rockies I feel like I can really breathe again. I'm looking forward Left Coast Crime in Denver!
ReplyDeleteI love where I live now (except this week's deep freeze and icy pavements), but I have no mountains to look at. I have to drive a couple of hours north to find any, and even those are baby eastern mountains, not the glorious ones of the west.
I also look forward to spending time near the Rockies near month. Plus, I plan to go hiking in the Boulder Flatirons after LCC, if the weather cooperates!
DeleteI look forward to seeing you and Grace in Denver
DeleteRhys, if you haven't seen the Grand Tetons in Wyoming, you are missing one of the
Deletemost magnificent "mountain areas" in the country! While driving thru the area, at
the first glimpse of those incredible mountains, I had my husband Billy, stop the
car so I could stand and stare at such beauty! It was breathtaking in its splendor!
Lynne Branson
I, too, like mountains but I live in Florida where it's flat, flat, flat. I'm now at the point where I get excited when I see a molehill.
ReplyDeleteSwitzerland is one of the great places in the world to admire mountain views. There's a famous train ride in a glass-ceiling train from Zermatt, home of the Matterhorn, all the way to Saint Moritz in the canton of Graubünden/Grissons. Magnificent views of the Alps all the way!
ReplyDeleteI am not aware of any instincts or deep feelings I've inherited from my ancestors. But who knows?
One of these years I shall come and visit! I hiked in Chamonix a couple of times, Alps on the French side, but have only passed through Geneva once in transit to Grenoble.
DeleteI have only been to Zurich & Davos for work but the train ride through the mountains was great. And I spent 3 weeks in Austria on a university course & remember hiking on a glacier near the Grossglockner. Another memorable experience!
DeleteEdith, Grace, and others: it would be great fun showing you my beloved Bern!
DeleteIn the summer of 1968, my soon to be step sister and I traveled to Zermatt together and hiked on the Matterhorn. There is a faded photo of an almost 21 year old tourist in an album in my living room, that I just might seek out later today.
DeleteI am dying to get back yo Switzerland. I have such lovely memories. I once hiked up the Eiger to the glacier. Spectacular
DeleteKim, my daughter and her husband visited Zermatt a few months ago, and their photos were unbelievably stunning.
DeleteI spent my childhood in a CT suburb, quite a lot of it in a neighbor's rowboat poking through the cattails to catch painted turtles or tramping through a freshwater swamp near our house, pretending I was with Francis Marion, the Swamp Fox of the Revolution. (I was a reader and a dreamer and odd from the get-go.) I had brief piano lessons and tennis lessons, but I always "knew" I was meant to have a homestead farm. When at 24 I met my future husband, I told him on an early date, "I want to have four children and a cow." "A cow?" It took me another 20 years to have my own cow and another ten for the farm... which I had to create and build, most of it with little money by my own sweat. It should be understood that I had zero experience with cows -- or large-scale carpentry, or farming -- when I had this dream. I'd never even driven a truck! And I'm a very fearful person. (But what I've learned about courage is that you acquire it by doing things that scare you, and then you stop being afraid... of that one thing, at least.) I'm not aware of small farmers among my ancestors. My family were from the deep South and were enslavers. However someone must have lived closed to the land. My mother once said, a little sadly, "Sel, you have dirt in your BLOOD." (Selden)
ReplyDeleteI love what you said about courage, Selden. And I do believe that there are things that draw us to them, that must be in our blood.
DeleteExactly right about courage! Conquering your fears one at a time, one small bite at a time.
DeleteChiming in to concur that how you describe courage, Selden, is spot on. Yes!
DeleteThis is fascinating stuff, Selden. You should write a book about it. And what an achievement ! Do tell us about the cow!
DeleteI always feel at home in the mountains. Maybe because my Mom’s parents lived in western North Carolina and that was always home to me. And my grandmother grew up there. I didn’t see the ocean until we moved to Massachusetts when I was 14 and I have always felt at home near the ocean. I should do some ancestry research and see where the Mallets, Beeches, and MacKenzies were.
ReplyDeleteWell the Mckenzies were definitely near mountains and water bits hard to be away from either in Scotland
DeleteSelden, I think I have dirt in my blood, too! On a much smaller, and less ambitious scale, though. I was sifting through old magazine cuttings and garden plans and found the first one I'd ever done, from 1986. Both my grandfathers were gardeners, and my great grandmother.
ReplyDeleteI also have sewing deeply ingrained in my psyche, through that same great grandmother, but also the one on my mother's other side. We found out she owned a dry goods store, which we would call a fabric store today.
When I was teaching sewing, several moms asked if I could teach their kids who were dying to learn to sew. The moms were mystified: no one in the family sewed, how were they even aware of such a pasttime? Perhaps generational memory (not trauma in that case) was the reason.
Karen in Ohio, my great grandfather owned a dry goods store in Indianapolis. I was fascinated by sewing and I remember sewing with my classmates at school. At University, one of my housemates taught me how to knit and I enjoy knitting. My grandfather dabbled in drawing and some of his descendants love to dabble in art.
DeleteKaren I have one granddaughter who is always knitting or crocheting. That comes from my mum who was also always knitting.
DeleteMy sister crochets and used to knit and do needlepoint. I did needlepoint and cross stitch. My grandmother embroidered, knitted and probably sewed. My mother did none of it (possibly to be nothing like her mother). I remember an old Mary Tyler Moore Show episode where the character Mary’s mother was observing Mary knitting or something. She said, “I could never do that, but your grandmother was a whiz at that type of thing. I guess it skips generations.” — Pat S
DeletePat and Rhys, it might very well skip generations!
DeleteI don't know if it is ancestral blood or whether there is some other thing that pulls us when we enter a new natural landscape. I surely have felt it from time to time, not just once and never exclusively.
ReplyDeleteGrowing up in flat landlocked Ontario, I always enjoyed visiting mountains.
ReplyDeleteI mentioned Austria in Kim's comment. I also enjoyed visiting the Boulder Flatitons multiple times and went on the cogway up to Pikes Peak in Colorado.
I very much want to visit Pike's Peak, Grace. My grandmother was one of the first to drive up the toll road when it opened!
DeleteIt was breathtaking and you also feel breathless since the Pikes Peak summit is at 14,100 feet a.s.l.
DeleteI know that a lot of you probably think that I am really weird, but here is another weird one. Manure. I love the clean, warm, comforting smell of a barn, a farm, a person spreading manure even that from pigs. Manure. It is like the smell of compost only better. It fills the nostrils and fills my soul.
ReplyDeleteI also love the smell of birthing – usually on a manure pack. I so envy Seldon and her lambing and the long tiring nights and the joy and sorrow associated with the outcome. Even watching a vet show, and just seeing the process of birth, I smell all those acrid scents, and then bask in the joy of the mother and baby’s first nose touch and just as equally her pain if the baby does not live.
I love the smell of the ocean before or after a storm, when the seaweed has been pushed ashore, and the fermentation process has just begun. I love the fact that should I bring wagonloads of this bounty home, and then ‘plant’ it in my garden beds, that when spring comes and it surely will, I know it will be percolating underneath to bring life and nutrition to what will flourish above.
I love stink! (By the way, my mother grew up on a dirt-poor farm on PEI, and with the sight of those red shores my body breathes deeply. Maybe it is inherited.)
Margo! I share the same love for these smells/scents! We finally purchased a small farm and I am determined to get these smells wafting here over the next 2 years. My ancestors were farmers/agriculturists and I grew upon a mini-farm with animals. It’s comforting to me to see, hear, and smell animals around me.
DeleteIt’s so interesting that your triggers are all smell related, Margo. I too have scent memories. The remembered smell of my grandmother’s house and my mother’s sewing box that I still have. I put my face in and breathe deeply and I’m at home
DeleteOh, Margo, I too love the smell of grass-fed manure (not factory farm cow manure, from confined cows on grain, which is horrid, and definitely not pig manure, which is exactly the same as human manure. Ha ha). There was absolutely nothing as relaxing to me as being in the barn on a cold night with the cows, sheep, and horses brought inside to their stalls. The sound of their contented munching on hay was so peaceful. Sheep alone these days are much quieter but I still love to stand and watch them after I've broken out all the ice and refilled water buckets. I put out mulch hay bales for the lambs to practice their jumping skills. While the mamas are eating or ruminating, they chase each other and do corkscrews off the bales. It always makes me happy. (Selden)
DeleteI think lambs and kids and children bouncing off anything and all is one of the most beautiful sights in the world!
DeleteI also love the smell of manure and of compost. I've been making all my garden compost for fifty years. Some years it gets manure in it, recently rarely.
DeleteLike you, I have scent memories. Though I barely remember meeting elderly relatives the Christmas before my second birthday, one of my great aunts (Nana’s baby sister) had this signature perfume - Chanel ? Or some kind of French Perfume. When I was a teenager, i saw her again and even though I did not remember her face, I remembered her perfume! Amazing how strong my scent memories are!
DeleteI get that, Margo. It's earthy, and as real as it gets, and is a tangible proof of a relationship with other species of life. There is almost nothing as comforting as the smell in a horse stall, of straw, manure, horse lather, and the saddle leathers and soap. My blood pressure goes down instantly when I step into a barn.
DeleteI am delighted that there are other "manure scent lovers" out there! Margo, Stacia, Edith and Karen...I am in excellent manure club company! LOL! I grew up beside a dairy farm which was especially fun for a youngster. I would look out my bedroom window and see the cows grazing in the field right beside our home. In late August that grass would grow tall and the farmer would come with his tractor and machinery to cut down the grass and put them into hay bales. The scent of dried hay was wonderful. In the summer, I would head out the door first thing in the morning with my sweet dog named Waggy and we'd go to the cow barn to fill up the steel water dishes for them. Then go back outside to taunt the often cranky bull in the adjoining pasture. (If Mom ever knew...) :-) The back section of the field beside our house would fill up with mountains of manure which while in the process of drying would create puddles of liquid at the bottom of the piles. In the winter that liquid would turn to ice and I and my neighborhood buddies would skate on brown ice! Splendid..haha! This dairy farm delivered our milk and cream every week and they also made homemade ice cream on their premises. In the summer we would cross through the field to where they sold the ice cream and sit inside the building savoring every last delicious spoonful of that homemade goodness! Last year, my husband and I discovered a dairy farm about a 30 minute drive from our house and now we make monthly trips there to buy homemade ice cream made on the farm as well as purchase special English Muffins. In the summertime the ever familiar scent of manure greets us the minute we pull into the parking lot which instantly fills me with joyful summer memories.
DeleteRhys ~ I love your mother's sewing box story as well as the fact that the inside of the box scent draws you back in time with many special memories. My Mom's freshly-perked coffee and her homemade apple pies straight out of the oven are the scents I most remember connected with her along with our shared coffee hours. Oh to be able to have one more conversation together...
DeleteWhen I was a young bride and it was still popular to select a china dinnerware pattern I chose "Flying Cloud" by Wedgwood. My mother was intrigued that I singled out a pattern with a ship on it. I told her that one day I planned on living close to the ocean. Forty years later it finally happened and I love it. There is nothing like the fragrance of a beach rose on a June day or the ocean mist floating in the air when it's overcast. However, most of our vacations over the years were winter ones and involved going north or out west to Aspen or Vail to ski. There is nothing to compare to that either ~ making a first run first thing in the morning or listening to the quiet on the mountainside while the snow is gently falling.. So for me it's a toss-up although my knees no longer cooperate with my skis :-) and blustery winter days make me want to hug a mug of cocoa instead of hanging out on a ski trail. But I feel fortunate I can still easily travel to the mountains as well as live near the ocean. Plus living among the pines I can practice shinrin- yoku (tree-hugging :-) ) and walk the trails anytime I feel the need to relax and de-stress. It's a win/win situation for me...the best of both worlds.
ReplyDeleteOh I hear you loud and clear about all of this Evelyn! Living in Maine (about an hour from the coast where I go weekly), but living in the mountain region, is a dream for me. I love skiing and also spending time in the coastal atmosphere. There is nothing that makes me feel more alive than either a walk at the ocean or in a forest.
DeleteP.S. The history behind the Boston-built Clipper Ship "Flying Cloud" and its 1851 sail from New York to San Francisco during the California Gold Rush is very interesting.
DeleteYou are lucky to have both now, Evelyn. I feel the same way
DeleteWhat a fun topic! It is something I think about often. I live in Maine (7 generations), and while I have been fortunate (?) to live in many different states and counties, at the end of the day, I am most at home, here at home in Maine. We lived at the coast for a few years, but I was drawn to move back closer to my home town (where several generations of both parents lived). I live in an adjacent town where I can take daily walks on forested trails, likely in areas where my ancestors worked on apple orchards back in the day. I also live where we can see Mount Washington and often remind myself that my ancestors saw this same exact view during their lifetimes. Being in the woods, walking, sketching, hiking the mountains is absolutely in my blood (many of my ancestors were Native American/American Indian). I will add that England and Scotland (many of my ancestors came from there), deeply pull me as well. I lived there after I was first married and immediately felt at home. I easily move and live there again. Still dream of it happening one day! I like to think that I hold some of my ancestors memories in my mind. I did not have children so I hope that my art work will somehow keep some of it alive with nieces and nephew. But if not, I have enjoyed experiencing it in my lifetime. I feel quite fortunate to have a life where I am able to appreciate and enjoy this type of experience. Interestingly, my siblings both have children and they appear to have no interest in learning about or sharing our family history with their children. And we have a pleasant family history of good/decent people who helped build (literally) the quaint mill town where we spent our childhood.
ReplyDeleteI understand that native peoples have such a strong connection to their land. And you have been blessed to keep those ties all your life
DeleteTo Stacia and Rhys ~ I agree, Rhys! Having that Native American history must be so fulfilling and I am a wee bit envious of your connection to it, Stacia. :-) But in a good way, of course. Being able to connect with the land and all the symbolism wrapped up in your ancestors' history is fascinating. Your home roots sound wonderful and being a fellow lover of both the forest and the ocean I can well appreciate why you are exactly where you should be! I love the State of Maine. While in search of where to retire we considered the southern part of your great state near Portland. And during our younger days when we used to go skiing every weekend we loved packing up our ski gear and a stash full of chocolate chip cookies :-) right after work on a Friday evening and head to either Sugarloaf Mountain or Saddleback Mountain (I love the Rangeley Lake area). A three hour drive that went by quickly with six of us stuffed into a small car; such fun and happy memories. Sigh...The time flies by so quickly.
DeleteThis is so thought-provoking! I’m not sure I have any places in my bones, but I do know when I went to Paris and vote I went to Seattle, funnily enough, I thought wow, I’m instantly comfortable. And there are certainly other cities where I am not so happy. Who knows why.
ReplyDeleteWith typos fixed… This is so thought-provoking! I’m not sure I have any places in my bones, but I do know I that when I went to Paris and when I went to Seattle, funnily enough, I thought wow, I’m instantly comfortable. And there are certainly other cities where I am not so happy. Who knows why
DeleteThat was how I felt when I first visited Carmel-by-the-sea and Monterey. I could have easily moved there at the time.
DeleteHank, I totally get what you mean.
DeleteI’ve had the same experience, Hank. Although I’m clearly not a city person. I feel trapped by tall buildings and narrow streets. The exceptions were Venice, Vienna and Stuttgart, oh and San Francisco too!
DeleteWhen we lived in Quebec for about 5 years after we were married, and had 1 house and 2.5 children, we went for a drive one day just across the border the Ontario – 2 miles, and as we came to a corner with a stunning catholic church perched at the top of the hill (neither of us were religious, let alone Catholic), we both said at the same time “I would like to live here.” Two years later things changed, Jack lost his job, and we both lost a child, and decided to move – guess where! It just called out to the two of us. Funny, it is…
DeleteNot a fan of tall buildings either! Venice was my favorite city in Italy.
DeleteI grew up in Northern Ireland just outside Belfast, and we had the Cave Hill in the background of the city. When we went for 'wee runs' in the car (Sunday day trips), it was always to the seaside. So for me, it's the sea and the smell of seaweed, the sound of seagulls, grey cloudy days and to be honest, I do still love a rainy day. Joyce W.
ReplyDeleteWe also did those Sunday drives to the seaside. I remember them fondly
DeleteMy friends and family think I am so weird because my favorite days are rainy days. They do not stop me from my daily walks (nor do most winter days here in Maine). For me it is peaceful and refreshing. I guess I would add here that being in (more specifically LIVING in) metropolitan areas put me on edge and I find nothing outside of art museums pleasant about being around so much stimulation. Give me the peaceful countryside or I would quite possibly die from misery! We had to life in London after we first married and within 6 months I found us a small village in Surrey to move to. A little pub down the road and all the country and forested trails to walk every day was my jam! And I was only 24 at the time. I loved how the English walked in any weather. They dressed for it and had their dogs out walking every day.
ReplyDeleteStacia, yes! I am always so interested when people say they have a connection to a city. Any city. It's quite odd because both my parents adored NYC, and my other four siblings lived there and worked there for years. But I'm the opposite. Whenever we are watching a television program and they pan over city lights at night, I shudder, and regularly tell my husband, "I'm so grateful I don't live in all that concrete." I took both our children, ten years apart, to the Kennedy Space Center when they were little. Both times I had almost an allergic reaction to all the concrete and chrome. I took them dutifully through all the tours but could not wait to escape. I always tell my husband that if we ever have to move off the land, we have to go somewhere in the country that I can get outside. (Selden)
DeleteStrangely enough it was rainy weather that drove me to move to Australia in my twenties. I love sunshine. Hence winters in Arizona
DeleteNo mountaineers or sea captains that I’m aware of in my past. It was love at first sight of “Momma Mountain” aka Mount Rainier. But it is the water that grounds me. Except for a year in Ashland, OR (Lithia Creek was not enough), I have lived close to water or on water.. Lake Candlewood, Long Island Sound, the Thames in New London, the Pacific Ocean on Kodiak and in WA state, and now the Atlantic Ocean. Elisabeth
ReplyDeleteYou’ve lived in some beautiful places. I was so impressed with Kodiak
DeleteFascinating,, Rhys! I don't have a mountain view from my house, but I can walk about 1/2 mile for a spectacular view on the ridge and watch the sunrise behind Mt. Hood. It never gets old for me.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was 15, my dad had sabbatical and we lived in his home city of Leeds for 6 months. It was my first trip to the UK, and dad's first visit in 17 years. One day, dad's old friends Charlie and Joan took both families to Haworth. We hiked to Top Withens and as we walked across the wild moor, I had this incredible sense of belonging. That other part of me had come home.
You channeled the Brontes !
DeleteFascinating. I have no idea if I have mountains in my heritage, but it might explain why I feel more at home in the mountains than anywhere else.
ReplyDeleteBut old mountains, like the Alleghenies, where I live now. I thought the Rockies were stupendous, but a bit brash. LOL
Liz, this made me laugh out loud. My husband, a mountaineer, loves the Rockies and took many photos of them, which he wanted to hang all over our first apartment. I said critically, "Don't they look like a lot of broken fangs to you?" (Selden)
DeleteThe Rockies are not exactly friendly mountains, are they. So stark and powerful
DeleteSelden, too funny. They are amazing, though.
DeleteRhys, I saw the Rockies up close and personal for the first time last year. I was in Salt Lake City, which is in the Wasatch Range. They were stupendous - but absolutely in your face everywhere. Like "Look at me, I'm huge!" Which is a bit disconcerting when you are the driver of a strange car in a strange city simply trying not to get crushed in five lanes of traffic! LOL
YOU CAN TAKE THE GIRL OUT OF THE MOUNTAINS, BUT YOU CAN'T TAKE THE MOUNTAINS OUT OF THE GIRL. Like you, Rhys, I must have them in my sight. I live in the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina.
ReplyDeleteSo stunning with that magical light
DeleteThanks Rhys - this is so interesting. I love mountains too, but I grew up along the coast and love the ocean. I can sit and stare at it for hours. I enjoy body surfing, and swimming. I love Hawaii with the warm water, the palm trees and smells of flowers. But any where with a body of water and I'm happy.
ReplyDeleteI used to adore Hawaii but the last visit it has become so crowded and touristy Perhaps Kauai is still as it was
DeleteFascinating how our ancestral memories continue through generations, Rhys. When I visited Britain and Europe for the first time, I recognized places from my dreams. I had never seen photos of these places in travel brochures. The hills and mountains felt familiar to me. Visited Wye Valley in Wales and loved it there. You will love Scotland. Every time I cross the pond, I always visit Scotland if I am visiting England.
ReplyDeleteWhen our Deaf tour group travelled by bus through Culloden where the Battle happened, I suddenly started crying without knowing why. I could barely see our Deaf tour guide narrating stories in Sign Language. Later I learned about the Battle of Culloden (1745) and we were there on the 250th anniversary of that battle. I wonder if I had an ancestor who lost their life at Culloden.
Speaking of traits, I was reminded of something that I automatically do when I was watching a documentary about Scottish whiskey. They always mix Scottish whiskey with water. I always add water to my glass of wine. When I was in Europe with my tour group, we were at a restaurant in Rome when I added water to my glass of wine. I made the decision to add water to the glass because if the glass was full, the server cannot add more wine to my glass.
How interesting that you dreamed places of ancestral memory. My grandmother did that!
DeleteI have two sort of “recognitions,” feelings of Deja vu that have nothing to do with my experience in this life. One was the desire, from childhood to get to Paris, and when I finally made it there in my late 40’s, I felt a strong sense of familiarity, of coming home, that certainly cannot be attributed to growing up in a small town in Wisconsin! The other is that when I read novels set in England or Scotland during the Middle Ages, especially the Viking Era, I feel like I’ve been there. Like I am really remembering things. Maybe it’s just a strong imagination, but both of these experiences feel like they involve some sort of memory.
ReplyDeleteThis is so fascinating. Past life memory maybe?
DeleteOh Rhys, I had a very similar experience. I know very little about where my father's family came from, so if there is an ancestral component to it I imagine it came from him. But I grew up in Southeastern Ohio, which is the foothills of the Appalachians. The first time I went west and saw the Rocky Mountains I felt like I had come home. I felt a deep, spiritual reaction I can barely describe -- awe, yes, but also a profound peacefulness. I still get that feeling anytime I am in a mountainous area.
ReplyDeletePerhaps there really is an ancestral component to it, because one of my brothers was similarly drawn to mountains. In his case, he moved to the Rockies as a young man and lived in Colorado and Wyoming for much of his life, then his last years in the mountainous part of Oregon.
I have also observed over the years that most people have that big reaction to either mountains or oceans, but rarely both. I wonder what that tells us?
Did any ancestors come from mountainous areas, I wonder? Worth tracing
DeleteSo interesting, Rhys. I had a similar experience the first time I went to Italy. I felt like I'd come home. Every minute felt like I was where I was supposed to be. Why? As far as I know I have not one drop of Italian blood in me. It's all Scots-Irish on my mother's side and German on my father's. But I'm Italian to the core. I even love driving in Italy. I understand the way Italians drive. I understand the way the interact. Why?
ReplyDeleteI felt the same about Germany. A great pull to it with no German blood. I felt so comfortable in Stuttgart and Freiburg.
DeleteI have quilts and dollies created my great-grandmother. She is from my father's side of the family. I love creating with my hands. I have way too much yarn. I find working on the needlepoint project for the church is very satisfying.
ReplyDeleteI love the coast but don't get to it as much I would like. I realize that I'm spoiled living in Sonoma county. Nice hills/mountains to the east and the rugged coast less than an hour away to the west. Beautiful giant redwoods....
What beautiful pictures, Rhys, and such interesting thoughts about where we get our preferences for different landscapes. My ancestry is very British Isles, and I've always had an affinity for misty, moody environments. (Maybe we share that ancestor who took an arrow at Hastings!) Part of it is probably because I immediately burn in the sun, but I've always thought it had to do with my background. On the other hand, I don't know if I can claim mountainous ancestry, but that would be part of my ideal scenery too. That may be because I currently live in flat Toledo, Ohio, so I'm starved for mountains.
ReplyDeleteKate, I'm an hour east of Toledo, but at least here we have some variation in topography. When people think of Ohio as flat, it's because they've driven the turnpike through the northwest corner of the state!
DeleteThat's so true, Flora! I grew up closer to where you live and miss the little hills.
DeleteAmazing, and what lovely photos, Rhys.
ReplyDeleteI first visited south Florida at the age of 4 - celebrated my fifth birthday there. It struck such a chord that I told people Miami was my hometown. I thought it meant a place you loved to be, not a place you were from. I returned in 1970 and spent the next 40 years there. Strangely enough, I felt the same way about the Caribbean. Always home. Makes me wonder why Maine called, but it did, and does. Still, home is the tropics - but the tropics the way they were. These days, I'm content to visit. As for ancestral ties, I think not. My heritage is firmly German, French, and Italian. Perhaps in another life?
what a wonderful conversation, thanks for getting it started Rhys! I love all your comments. I do believe in carrying forward ancestral memory and ancestral trauma as well. In fact I'm thinking about that in a plot I'm working on today...
ReplyDeleteI definitely think there's an ancient connection to the land, Rhys! I grew up in relatively flat north-central Ohio (if a glacier rolled over you, you'd be flat, too!). But my immediate ancestors were from the hills of western North Carolina, western Virginia, and eastern Kentucky. And farther back, my ancestors came from Sweden, Scotland, Ireland, England, and Germany. Mountains sing to me, paths entice me to walk into those wild, high lands! And yet, there's a pull to the ocean, too. Maybe coming from lands with mountains, living close to the sea?
ReplyDeleteFlora, your comment was so poetic “Mountains sing to me, paths entice me to walk into those wild, high lands!” that I hesitate to follow you!
ReplyDeleteI grew up on the Peninsula between San Francisco and San Jose. We had mountains (?) to the west covered in pine trees. Whenever I return and see those tree-covered hills, I think of “I will lift my eyes to the hills”. I definitely feel like I have returned home. The hills outside of San Diego don’t do it for me (they’re covered in big boulders; I prefer tall evergreens) and yet, having lived here so long, I do thrill to see them when flying back home. I don’t know of any ancestral connection to mountains, but I do enjoy them. (And I am looking forward to visiting the Rockies next month!) — Pat S
We must have a Jreds commenters meetup!
DeleteThanks, Pat S, for the compliment!
DeleteI live at the southern end of the Santa Clara Valley. My kitchen faces east and we have an almost 360 view of rugged Sierra foothills to the east. The view west are the mountains covered in evergreen tress that Pat described, perpetually green when all other mountains have turned gold. The rugged hills, Sierra Nevada foothills, are green until late Spring, the rains generally end in February. These mountains are truly magnificent! I am located south of San Jose, in western Los Gatos. This location is twenty minutes from the Pacific ocean. A truly beautiful place.
DeleteThat is fascinating, Rhys. I love your views - I firmly believe a writer needs a room with a view (nod to E.M. Forster. I can't say that I've experienced this but I don't know that much about my ancestors. My mom has been gathering the facts but I really need to take the time to study them.
ReplyDeleteWe moved into a new house when I was in 8th grade, and on a shelf in my new bedroom, I found several foreign language books. Just for fun I started teaching myself French. By the time I was in high school and could officially take a foreign language class, I found that I had already worked my way through the book they were using as a textbook. So, yes, it was easy for me. I didn't get interested in genealogy until my 70's, but I live in Salt Lake City, the Mecca for genealogists, so I began to search. Well, I can trace my MT DNA to the Channel Island of Jersey where part of my mother's family lived at least as far back as 1500. They spoke French...so it might be in the blood.
ReplyDelete