To those who inspired it, but will never know or read it.
Chapter 1
Every human being who has had the excitement but misfortune of wise experience and therefore has been touched by the lessons that life has brought them, will understand life better than those who have not endured the unfortunate or disastrous adventure. The intense ferocity and emotional sadness of pain, the trifling afflictions and complications of love and the un-denying truth that life is not perfect. But in order to succeed in life, however upsetting these misfortunes maybe, everyone must endure the experience some time or other. Fate or God (which ever you choose to believe in) had decided that this was the time for Elinor Clark’s life to turn upside down.
Though Elinor could feel lonely in a crowded room, in the countryside she felt at home. It wasn't that she sought isolation, but in the quiet song of the birds and the susurration of the green wheat in the fields, she could feel at peace. The tranquility of the calm melodies and the breeze created from the grass in the field, whether in spring, summer, winter or autumn she felt completely at ease. The paths of mud and the stiles she traversed were a hymn sung straight to her soul; the trees, the grass, the pheasants that wandered the coppice, were all part of the music. Touching the rough boughs of the trees and wading through the overgrown bracken that forced her to hide her hands deep inside her pockets. The more the wind blustered, tousled her black hair and cooled her fingers, the calmer her mind became.
Life and nature are similar concepts - nature is the study of how life acts and interacts within the circle of existence. When Elinor took the time to examine the beauty of the world around her, she was able to see parallels within her own life. She found, as she neared the hill where the large oak had place upon, that all of nature moves in a spiral as do our personal lives. It is often amusing at such moments that you are able to plunge the depths to find something deep from the mind, something from inside, something honest. Spending time in nature in this way, you can become accustomed to its wisdom.
The grass was dripping, leaving bubbles of clearness upon her tights, soaking through to her skin. She ran down the hill as the clouds, dark and dismal, surged above her, every muscle in her body interacting with the activity, allowing her to continue down the gradient of wild, extensive grassland.
She ran outside as a moment of letting go from the endless obstacles that she often felt trapped and lonely in. The monotony of the daily activities and the endless feeling that her family and close acquaintances made her feel, would make her feel as if trapped in a void of endless suffering. She felt misunderstood and often felt the only thing that did understand her was the wind. The furious gusts and howls from above the endless Earth, its grey lining as though a pile of ashes layering in the sky. To isolate herself from the commonplaces of existence.
The wind bit her face with a ferocity unusual in nature as she sprinted through the natural growth. Bitter and sharp the raw air flied towards her, eager to suck any remaining heat from her already stone cold body. Her face stung and her eyes flood with hot tears as the relentless gusts washed over. She had often wished for a companion during these moments, a deep connection perhaps, she often thought a dog would be just the thing. She hardly ever came across any people during her walks, but no one seemed to dare to enter the unknown world of wind and storm -like weather, they only ever looked for weather of joyfulness and exultance- usually found upon sunny days, quite unlike the world at which Elinor had found herself on that day.
For her own amusement, being an avid reader, she would often spend more than half a day in the library hurled into worlds of adventure and romance, her mind completely engrossed. Elinor had always preferred the reading of an adventure book as she felt that they were much more interesting than what her life consisted of. Reading is to the mind what exercise is to the body and gives us a place to go when we have to stay where we are. We lose ourselves in books, we find ourselves there too as the books we read become woven into the tapestry of our lives and help make us who we are today and what we will become in the future. They are not only a fiction designed to entertain, surely they change us in ways we could not imagine. Elinor, whether walking outside, reading a book, playing the piano or climbing a tree, had a sense of urgency as time would drift away-one day becomes the next unable to define perhaps a meaning of a particular hour or minute.
Life is filled with dreams, dreams which give life meaning and inspire change. People dream about change and improvement, they set goals, seemingly impossible goals, goals which challenge them, and they dream about the future, when they will reach their goals, when their lives will change for the better. Without dreams, life and humanity would be hopelessly dull. Dreams are about the yearnings that are held deep inside everyone. Some of these desires are so secret that individuals dare not share them even with their closest friends. Those that dare to put their dreams down on paper are showing the courage and faith that they will come true. Elinor wrote poetry on her dreams and losses, in hope of inspiring people and providing a type of anecdote for the suffering of the common man and the emptiness of existence, often portrayed in many people’s lives.
Her situation in life consisted of little fortune and no social importance, but sometimes it is the people that no one imagines anything of, who do the things that no one can imagine.
Elinor made her way back home; fully recovered and stabilised by nature and its beauties. The forests sweet words and the skies healing properties of light, rain and snow, the stream that would flow in time to the movement of the grass ,whispering due to the gentle breeze. She often sought inspiration for poetry writing among the gloriously endowed countryside. As well as a moment of escape and adventure which she so yearned for. Elinor had yearned for freedom since the age of seventeen in all aspects of her life and tried to escape at every available moment. Dissatisfied with the monotonous daily activities of visiting new people, flower arrangements for the church and baking for elderly people of the village as well as cleaning and dedicating hours to her father’s amusement. She would often write poetry as a way of escape and adventure through the mind. However the oscillation between Elinor’s desire for freedom and her inability to escape would often form an emotional tension that would underline most of her life and relationship between friends and family.
In her daily activities she would spend most her day wondering the forest and the field, conversing with acquaintances as they happen to walk by. Each caught up in their own spiral of some meaning. On this particular day she had come across a man being arrested for murder. She knew him well enough and had even used to play with his daughter. He was a local man and was to be hanged in Bodmin after trials in Truro. That is of course if the law convicts him before his own conscience or health did.
She would take part in any activities that the village arranged as she felt it a duty, considering all the things her mother would do to display her kindness in the town. The town was a peaceful place where everyone was content. However it had nevertheless had its fair share of scandals and crimes being committed. Smuggling was often very popular along the vast coast. Many had been caught during these acts, however some had managed to escape such accusations as the villagers were often able to give alibis and storage for any smuggled items. Everyone knew each other and Elinor had often thought that they were like one big family, helping and supporting each other in times of need and celebrating and thanking each other on their achievements and hospitality. The neighbours were very hospitable and liked to help when they could. The inhabitants would farm, mine, and hold musical events that would delight Mr Clarks and Elinor’s fascination for music and socialising.
As she advanced upon the family cottage, that had endured the test of time, she observed her father, Thomas Clark, speaking with concentration that Elinor was sure would accomplish any task, to a man clearly collecting the rent. Due to Elinor’s brother, Henry Clark, marrying a sweet tempered girl in the village, Mr Clark and Elinor had little fortune to live upon. Meaning that they could not pay the rent that the landlord seemed determined to have even though he would hardly feel its loss, considering the extent of his riches and success,
