Well, my mother and I spent yesterday afternoon in the Lake District–via the delightful new film, Miss Potter, which chronicles the literary journey of our beloved Beatrix. It was so enchanting–so altogether lovely–that we were walking on air when we came out of the theatre. That hasn’t happened to me in a long, long time! And instead of the traffic and noise of one of the (ugliest) parts of town, my eyes were filled with visions of sweeping vistas of mountains and lakes, peaceful pastoral vignettes and cozy rooms–treasures themselves preserved by Beatrix Potter’s conservation efforts.

I thought that the movie captured the flavor of a staid but beauty-filled era. The trappings that hampered Beatrix’s personal freedoms seemed almost whimsical, even for one as old-fashioned as I! πŸ˜‰ But the seriousness and courage with which the most popular author of children’s books of all time pursued what she loved was treated with a genteel respect–richly deserved, in my opinion. I’ve always loved Beatrix Potter–from the pre-Amazon days when some of the first books of hers I ever laid eyes on were the ones my grandparents brought back to me from England in the early 80’s. And now, as an adult with dreams of my own, her story, interpreted through this film, has inspired me afresh to live passionately in all that I love.

It’s rare to see a movie that is simply lovely fron start to finish, but that’s what Miss Potter is. Renee Zellweger’s adorably frumpy and un-selfconscious Beatrix is a breath of fresh air in such a glamor-obsessed age. She made me want to pull on my Wellies, plunge my hands in the pockets of a long wool cardigan, and set off for a ramble over the hills. My own dear pastures will have to suffice, but that’s alright. This is where I belong…