Dwell slowly on the beautiful things

“It always pays to dwell slowly on the beautiful things – the more beautiful the more slowly.”

So wrote Atticus, a philosopher who lived in the second century AD.

Some 1800 years later, it was Paul Scott Mowrer, an American newspaper correspondent (who was awarded the first ever Pulitzer Prize for Correspondence in 1929) who embraced a similar sentiment when he wrote:

“A fine landscape is like a piece of music; it must be taken at the right tempo.”

I’m not sure what beautiful things Atticus was referring to – though he is not known to have travelled too far from Greece – or  indeed what landscape Mowrer was thinking of when he wrote his words, though he was far more widely travelled; apart from America he also travelled widely in Europe, and during World War I worked as a correspondent at the front line.

Irrespective of their differences, the words of both writers resonate well with Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon); it really is a place of beauty and should be taken slowly and at the right tempo to get the best out of it.

I often see runners on the mountain, and I don’t mean those in a race (though there are plenty of those during the season) to whom Yr Wyddfa is simply an obstacle and a challenge, but those running because that’s what they do.

People who race up and down consequently miss so much. An example is those undertake the Three Peaks Challenge, trying to complete it in 24 hours. There’s no official time limit for this activity, and quite frankly, most people will be impressed to hear that someone has completed the Three Peaks, and it won’t cross their mind to ask in what time scale.

For those who do undertake it in 24 hours, one mountain (usually Scafell Pike) is necessarily undertaken in the dark. Surely it deserves better than that? And often when we see people on Yr Wyddfa they are usually on their final mountain timescale, and are consequently rushing up and down with frequent glances at their watches, trying to complete it in time.

Others choose a looser timescale, doing the challenge over two or three days, or even more. This doesn’t mean that they couldn’t complete it in a shorter timescale; it simply means that they want a more leisurely pace so that they can enjoy all three peaks in daylight. Now that’s a far better tempo, and consequently they know they’ll get more out of it.

Generally speaking a lot of walkers on Yr Wyddfa like to do it in a good time, but my advice to them would be: “That’s all well and good, but just take a minute here and there to take in the scenery that’s all around you.” (OK, so I accept that if the cloud is down and there is nothing to be seen, my argument holds no water , but you get my point.)

Sometimes those who have had the best day are those puffing and panting at the back. They’ve taken plenty of breaks, and really soaked up the views. They’ve probably spotted more in the way of wildlife and plant life than the rest of us.

Life isn’t a race. Don’t live it so fast that you miss the beautiful things.

Starry saxifrage just inches from the summit, but who notices it?


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