Tuesday, 11 December 2012

In which it's summer in December

Back when the leaves were just springing open I was asked by poet Sarah Hymas if I'd take part in a project.  Sarah imagined each of the 24 hours of the summer solstice allocated to a poet, who would then, in real time, go outside to the place of their choice - and write a poem for that one hour.

In no time, I'd been given a choice of hours.  I'm a morning person so I opted for 6am, reckoning also (and correctly) that I'd still have time afterwards to chivvy my teenage sons from their beds so they didn't miss the school bus.

I'd set the alarm, but didn't need it.  Midsummer morning was damp, cool and grey in Dumfries and Galloway.  I picked up pencil and notebook (and coat).

Birdsong.  The quiet pond.  Hills.

I wandered into the wood, and then on impulse climbed into the copper beech tree.  Perched, and scribbling on slightly dampening paper, I spent a slow hour that was filled with happenings.  And I thought of the poet who'd just done 5am.  And the poet who would take over from me at 7am.

Now there's a book.  For a mere £4.50 (including p&p) you can brighten up this year's shortest day with 24 poems  written on the longest one.  Contact Sarah here or on Facebook and she'll see you alright.



No comments:

Post a Comment