Like the trees in Larkin’s poem, we are beginning afresh.
Quite a few years ago I had a pen-friend in Saskatchewan and she used to refer to ‘green up’. In her corner of the world there was snow for many months and then – suddenly it seemed – green up. I often think of her and that phrase at this time of year. Continue reading “Green Up”
I don’t know why she’s exerting such a huge influence on me here but I’m glad that she is
I could have tagged this onto either of the previous posts. But really, this small nugget of time was so special that I need it to have a post all to itself. A seemingly tiny thing, and I don’t expect to do it justice in words, but I need to have it here. Continue reading “The View from Here: The Pinnacle of my Festival Experience”
“I am creative. I am a writer: this is what I do and this is who I am”
I went to one festival talk on my own entitled: A Space to Write. There is a book of the same name which inspired the talk and was already known to me. It had caught my eye in the Sunday supplements a while back and made my way onto the “books to read one day” list, but it’s too costly to buy new and doesn’t seem available as used. Perhaps I could ask for it as a birthday or Christmas present. Anyway: a book in which writers talk about their respective writing spaces and discuss their approach to their craft – wonderful! And the talk was wonderful. I loved it! Continue reading “Final Festival Talk: A Space to Write”
I did worry slightly about whether discovering pleasure in a guided walk puts me even more firmly into a certain age bracket. And then I thought: so what?
One talk down: next came the guided walks. Guided walks have never been my thing. Communal events in general are not my thing. But in this new chapter of life I really do want to embrace the traditions and the history of our adopted home, and to do that properly you need to participate and experience – even if only as a member of the audience. Reading about an event is just not enough. Continue reading “Festival Talks and Festival Walks (ii)”
A number of gentlemen in the audience immediately put their hands to their own ‘flowing locks’
There are a great many events within festival week: walks and talks making up only a part of what’s on offer. There are workshops and musical performances and foodie things; there are debates and book signings and group readings. I was seriously tempted by the harp workshop; Continue reading “Festival Talks and Festival Walks (i)”
Yesterday our ferry had whipped harsh words around my head as we sailed: cold, wet, grey, brooding. This morning our ferry laughed gaily and sang of buoys and boats, seagulls and sunshine.
The day after our inaugural crossing to Fowey we were scheduled to return, this time in the morning in readiness for a guided walk. And this time the sun was out. What a difference! Continue reading “Polruan and Fowey, come rain, come shine. Part two … sun”
Sadly, our particular ferry did not have a roof … the journey was damp and bracing. Grey and mercifully short.
We’ve now crossed to Fowey and back twice. What a contrast between the two visits.
When we set out for our first festival event – a talk of B’s choosing – the sky was dark and a few spots of rain fell as we climbed into the car. “It’ll stop,” we said, “It’s nothing.” It did not stop. We did not take coats.
Continue reading “Polruan and Fowey: come rain, come shine. Part one … rain”
The sun was warm and mellow; the sky cloudless …
Inspired by the work of its most famous authoress …
Today I booked tickets for the Fowey Festival of Arts and Literature. I’m so excited! Continue reading “Tickets booked”
“I walked this land with a dreamer’s freedom….”
Our weather remains mercurial but we had one amazing weather day this week. Continue reading “Hellebores and Tea with Daphne”