Alexander Pope, 1688-1744.
ODE ON SOLITUDE
Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
Blest, who can unconcern’dly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixt; sweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please
With meditation.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.
Solitude has much been on my mind of late and I suppose has been reflected to some degree in the photographs I make. I believe there is a measure of psychology available through the pictures one makes. I came across the poem by Alexander Pope and was struck by the simplicity I seek through solitude and by extension through riding.
Quiet by day,
While the day was full of work it also provided more lessons in solitude. I know many riders abhor being alone on the road choosing travel to pig roasts and poker runs and the socialization that follows. Maybe I’ll learn to appreciate those events someday. For now I still find value in the sweet recreation of solitude on the road.