A Wanderland of Recollections- Cathy John

Distanced from Durlston in these days of stasis, I cannot wander across its hardy clifftops and softer meadows; instead it has become a wanderland of recollections.

In my mind, Durlston is now a storehouse of memories, a bucolic mnemonic device like Sherlock Holmes’s mind palace or the memory palaces that Renaissance thinkers built in their intellects to house and recall information.

With its hidden shoreline in Durlston Bay, its contrasting wildflower meadows with their Bee Orchids and knee-high summer grasses, the cavities of the abandoned quarries at Tilly Whim’s Caves; Durlston’s spaces are capacious, divergent and multifaceted. For me, each part of Durlston has a cache of remembrances, chronicling different eras of my life, different seasons of the year.

Cathy John