There'll be more on the Heugh later I'm sure, but first Shepherd's Dene!
Last Sunday I had a whole day of writing. Me. The tea maker. The not really a writer who was
Plus, it all began with coffee and cookies so, you know it was bound to be fine.
The day was all about the senses and observation. I was slightly hindered by a hideous headcold - held in check with max strength flu capsules (shop's own brand though other well known makes are available) and by the fact that I rarely seem to notice anything much. I actually do find the kind of exercise where you have to look at things minutely really difficult. Self-conscious at the best of times the intensity of such observation almost paralyses me. I look at an object and see only that - it's a chair, it has legs, I can sit on it... I marvelled at the imagery that others in the group created from their various observances throughout the day. I found myself writing pagefuls of words, with maybe a phrase or a line here and there that stuck a chord. I was not put off by this, and that is perhaps the measure of the small progress I have made in three years, because I have learned that three good words can be the trigger for something more, so I have gathered my words like fallen leaves and will spread them out later and smooth their crumples and see what I can make of them.