Yorkshire

It is the weekend before Christmas in the photograph of a church near Blubberhouses in Yorkshire. Very cold, very beautiful. Fewston Reservoir is below, part frozen and the sign says we are banned from swimming. Will have to check if that is winter only. Snow filled air makes your cheeks feel clean and fresh and your eyes as though they've been thought a blow cleaner.
I never forget, living in Manchester, how breathtaking Yorkshire is, but more and more it makes me feel peaceful. Not only the scenery, whether it's the prettiness of the woods in spring and summer or the bleakness of the wintery moors and rivers, but the people. I feel I belong and that is a very warming feeling. I belong in the place as well as with the way people talk to each other. Now, that's me feeling that, others may look at me and say (inwardly) or even outwardly for that matter, 'Why does she think she belongs/has anything in common with me?' That's not what I mean. We all come from different stand points, I mean, having lived away, it is a relief to relax in the environment as well as in the soul. Whatever the connections or non-connections, I like it. And that's 'like' in an acceptance that it is natural and flowing and there's nothing I can do about it sort of way. I'm writing here, not editing, not really thinking, trying to capture a feeling that is in its early stages but gathering strength. It used to make me sad leaving Yorkshire to cross the Pennines, for these two reasons, people and place, now I feel less sad leaving, but always very glad to return.
Now I like living in Manchester for very different reasons. But they don't belong here.