Does every sabbatical begin in a whirlwind? This one did as I departed for a spiritual retreat on August 23, 2022. It seemed wise and good to start with intentional time for slowing and quieting of heart, mind, and spirit. Though as usual, travel is anything but calming and relaxing.
Arriving at Holy Wisdom Monastery in Middleton, Wisconsin after a toll-road-dodging five hour drive from Chicago, I went straight to the dining hall. I found a small supper group consisting of two of the monastery’s sisters and one other guest, the new campus chaplain at the nearby University of Wisconsin, Madison.
The four of us had a lively conversation about faith and the church over dinner. It was the first of many over my ten day stay. A rotating cast of characters included an Episcopal Bishop from Michigan, a Methodist pastor in transition after serving a Tennessee congregation, a lay woman with a variety of spiritual interests, and three more of Holy Wisdom’s resident sisters. The variety of guests bore witness to the Holy Spirit’s ceaseless movement in people and Holy Wisdom’s commitment to a thriving ecumenical faith community.
My time at Holy Wisdom was rich and varied. I went to worship several times a day. I read books at my hermitage and in the library. I wrote in my journal. I met with a wonderful Spiritual Director.
Wild Turkeys in the orchard, Holy Wisdom
Over the course of my ten days at Holy Wisdom I enjoyed a kind of tranquility that is difficult to achieve in the course of daily life. All too soon it was time to depart. I planned a more expeditious route back to the airport in Chicago and said my farewells.
I took a final look around and appreciated a stealthy change
that had begun in the land: Autumn’s arrival upon the prairie of southern Wisconsin.
Late summer weather attended my walks in the extensive grounds of native prairie grass with small stands of evergreens. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Clouds formed. Warm rain fell.
Wild turkeys inhabited the tall grasses and orchard, a sanctuary for raising their broods. Birds called in the day; unseen owls hooted in the night.
Deer grazed with their fawns amid the orchard’s pear and apple trees. The pond rippled with waterfowl.
Autumn comes to Wisconsin
A brief sojourn at home followed. Summer still held on here in the San Juans. Blackberries and apples ripened in the sun. Sixteen days seemed like a generous span of time to visit friends on the mainland and work on sabbatical projects, beginning with a new liturgy from my monastery stay. But instead, I found myself organizing my office for another move, sifting, donating or discarding as needed.
Soon it was time to leave again, this time for Ireland to spend happy days in the company of my sister and her husband. We toured the land attempting to track down the hometowns of our Potato Famine Immigrant great grandparents. We discovered that our people were laborers; too poor to have left behind records or even grave markers. But we concluded that County Cork and County Leitrim from which they likely came, bore similarities to the seasides, rivers, lakes, and forested landscape of Oregon which eventually became their adopted home.
Abbey ruins at Fenagh, Ireland
The weather on the Ring of Kerry was beautiful, still offering late summer warmth. Farther north in Leitrim rain showers made us appreciate the wood burning stove and fireplace of our rental house. Along the way we took in the ancient history of the land, with its Ring Forts, Ogham Stones, Megalithic cemeteries, castles, and many farms, villages, and towns.
I next travelled to Denmark on my own. For several days I toured Copenhagen. It is a city that hums with youthful vitality. However, I was pleased to see that the hordes of bicycle commuters included people of all ages.
After that I met David at the Copenhagen airport and we travelled by train across the Oresund to arrive in Malmo Sweden. The city is well tended and compact. We met our friends and co- travelers Rhonda and Forrest at the train station, taxied to the Malmo airport and by midday picked up our rental car for an extended road trip through Sweden and Norway.
This too was a journey about origins. While professional research has not yet disclosed the identities of my paternal birth grandparents, I learned that I have close genetic relatives in the Dalarnas Lan area of Sweden around the towns of Malung and Mora. These became waypoints on our trip, along with the town of Aplared, Sweden where some of Rhonda’s forebears lived.
We were happily surprised by the landscape: Rhonda had thought of her people as living in open farmland. Aplared however, turns out to be small subsistence farms in rolling hills where trees bear the brightest red apples we had ever seen. I had expected to find my people in villages of small red houses, the landscape around Malung and Mora features large farms or forested land. And so the Second Autumn of my sabbatical arrived in the turning leaves of the trees along the roads.
Swedish Road in Autumn
From central Sweden we headed north and west toward Trondheim, Norway. We stayed in night in Roros where a UNESCO World Heritage copper mine dominates the hilly landscape. Leaving, the road took us high into scenic mountains, alpine tundra, and ponds fringed with ice.
Farm – Selbu Norway
We were warmly welcomed by Rhonda’s cousins at their farm in Selbu, Norway. In nearby Trondheim we visited a fine museum of musical instruments. Then I presided at our travelling companions’ 50th anniversary renews of marriage vows in Selbu’s 11th century church. A choir we met at our hotel came and sang. We took the traditional wedding route afterwards to a lovely reception at the farmhouse.
Selbu Kirke
Farmhouse View
We said farewell to the beautiful valley where Selbu lies, although Norway’s autumn colors would continue to grace the landscape. Time to turn southward. Traversing Norway’s famously precipitous Trollstigen road, we arrived at Valldal on the Geiranger fjord. A ferry ride across the fjord to another town allowed us to ascend from sea level over still more mountains and into the valleys of central Norway. A day’s drive brought us to Lillehammer, then another to Oslo where we at last returned our rental car. With a day to spare, we visited several museums and the royal palace.
We departed Scandinavia by ferry from the Oslo Ferryport and arrived in Kiel, Germany the next morning. By train we travelled to The Hague in the Netherlands where we stayed a night to visit the stunning Mauritshuis art museum. There we saw Vermeer’s “Girl with a Pearl Earring” and were treated to many other splendid works of art there. Another day of trains carried us through Belgium and into France. We anticipated a challenge changing trains and train stations in Paris, and indeed it was chaotic. We prevailed however, arriving late into historic Rouen, seeing its remarkably lovely Cathedral in the dark. The next day it was further onward by train and bus through Caen to the charming town of Ouistreham on the coast of Normandy. A hired driver showed us the poignant landing beaches of D-Day. After two days we boarded a ship of the Brittany Ferries Line, crossing the Channel to Portsmouth, England. A pre-arranged driver met us in the dark and rain, taking us to Southampton for our last two days on dry land.
We’d thought of this English port city as little more than the departure point for our homeward transatlantic crossing on Cunard Line’s Queen Mary 2. But we were charmed and surprised by Southampton. The weather cleared. We walked through parts of the medieval town walls, wandered the busy streets and harbor, and visited a memorial for sailors in a ruined church. We ate fresh haddock and chips at a traditional English pub – the White Star, evoking the White Star Line’s Titanic, which departed from Southampton on its final voyage.
We crossed the Atlantic on the Queen Mary 2 arriving in New York
after seven days and 36 hours of stormy heaving seas. Then we flew
home and arrived to see our Third Autumn, in these beautiful San Juan Islands.