Walking the Footpath

When Gandhi visited Great Britain, a journalist asked him what he thought of Western civilization. Gandhi reportedly quipped, “I think it would be a good idea.” 

 

His point is well-taken. Beneath the veneer of high society, impeccable manners and the polite decorum in the tea-room lay centuries of the savage, barbaric cruelty known as the British Empire. It is a story that needs to be re-told and understood if we are to actually move toward something worthy of the title “civilization.”

But not here. Because walking the outskirts of the charming town of Moreton-in-Marsh, I have nothing but praise for one of Britain’s notable contributions to a genuinely civilized society. I’m talking about the Public Footpath. 

 

The idea of the Commons refers to “land or resources belonging to or affecting the whole of a community.” Hence, the oldest city park in the U.S. is called the Boston Commons, a public area to be equally enjoyed by all. Great Britain, like most of the European-based world, is big on ownership, treating land, resources and even people (as in chattel slavery) as things to be privately owned and controlled. 

But within that structure, they have created a network whereby privately-owned land can be open to the public via the Public Footpath. 140,000 miles worth, to be exact! No snarly landowners sitting on their porch with a shotgun and “No Trespassing!” signs nailed to trees. Just little gates designed to keep livestock from leaving the property that people can open and close and enjoy a walk without fear of infringing on people’s property rights. A beautiful model of a civilized structure that benefits all. 

 

My wife and I first encountered them back in 1978 walking through the Lake Country. Such a lovely way to connect with the landscape and feel oriented. We could feel the company of Wordsworth, as he reported centuries earlier: 

 

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze…

 

Three days are before us to see which flowers the Cotswolds have to offer, in company with sheep and cows and others who love to walk. This morning’s rains letting up a bit and off we go to Stow-on-the-Wold. 

 

My heart aches from the havoc of the Empire, but there is still much good and beauty in this “green and pleasant land.” We indeed must come to terms with the murderous pasts (and presents) of each country, but once we acknowledge where we have come from, the bulk of our energy should be given to where we are going. William Blake said the same:

 

 I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Jerusalem,
In England’s green & pleasant Land.

 

 And perhaps that work can begin with a walk on a public footpath.