Beauty is England's Middle Name

This weekend proved that to me abundantly.

Once again I have fallen prey to the flu -- probably the product of consistently damp weather, stress from trying to figure out scheduling crapola, and over body exertion from breakdancing.

(My roommate is freaking out because the cricket world cup is being held in her home country of India while we'll still be in England. I don't understand cricket. All I know is some people eat them coated in chocolate. End side note.)

Anyway. This sickness has left me completely vulnerable to the seduction of my bed, whose invitations I have graciously accepted frequently, knowing that if I was at home, my mom would advise me to do the same. But in light of a sleepy weekend, Abby and I made a trip to Wollaton Park, which has made its mark upon my heart.

Wollaton Park, located right across the road from the University Park Campus, and larger than said campus, brought some of the best relief to my spirit that I have had in a long time. We walked through a shoddy gate house, and stepped into a wonderland of turning leaves, rustling grasses, and content families strolling with their dogs on the open green fields that tenderly hug the small lake in its southern corner. We only had the chance to explore a tiny portion of this park, but in that time we discovered a castle, found a quaint cafe (open only from 12pm-3pm on weekdays) ideal for pre-class studying, and realized that Abby's coat had been peed on by a mangy little dog while we were taking pictures next to the glorious castle wall. That was touching... really... like, you couldn't have controlled your two lb dog from urinating all over the inside of my friend's jacket? C'mon people. Do we need to put the collar on you instead? Oye.

In any case, there's nothing like fresh air, rolling hills, and endless beauty to rejuvenate the soul and strengthen a sick body. Unless you couple that with gorgeous music. Music and nature -- the heart's healers.

I have been so blessed by the little things in life. The slight adjustments in the harmonic line of a second guitar in an acoustic cover that no one would catch unless they had listened to it religiously. I tend to do that -- listen to a song over and over. If my soul finds oneness with a piece of music, it feels right to continue on that vent until my soul switches direction -- it's like coming home for a while.

But enough musical philosophy. Clearly I'm doing a lot of thinking over here, but more than anything, I am learning how to live. I am learning to enjoy every moment, to listen for the harmonic line of the second guitar in a piece of beloved music, to reach out to people instead of walking by them distractedly. To PAY ATTENTION.

More later, friends.

Oh but wait -- my roommate just informed me that the Cricket World Cup 2011 mascot is an aqua elephant named Stumpy. I think that pretty much sums it up :)