Great Mell

I’ve just come in from watching a very high tide covering the whole marsh as far as the eye could see and being blown in even higher by the strong winds at Burnham Overy Staithe, down in Norfolk. A neat trick, courtesy of webcams. Yesterday morning I watched a policeman on the quay waiting for a pleasure boat to motor in and there appeared to be some questioning going on. It feels a bit voyeuristic but it’s the closest I’ll get to the place for a while and I miss it.

This morning, as it’s an increasing struggle to get into my jeans, I did the obvious thing and I made a very small banana cake with a yogurt (that’ll make all the difference) and Sicilian lemon topping whilst listening to A.L.Kennedy in conversation about short story writing (thanks to Paula/Puffin for the link). Then I sanded the bit of wall I’d pollyfilled last weekend and painted it by mixing a tester colour paint pot with white because I hadn’t been able to get the right colour match. Pleased with how well it came out. Then off to Booths for a very civilised shop and a walk part way up Great Mell. It was bitingly cold and a shock after yesterday. I was thinking about language prompted by the talk this morning, by Bernard’s poem and listening to part of Any Questions yesterday and talk of mental health and isolation. I find the discussions about isolation interesting and as I walked today I was glad to be able to meet and hug all my old friends. From childhood I’ve always been an inveterate loner and now two life partners have pegged it I am very glad of these reliable souls for company. Believe it or not they are oaks. I also saw a hare. So place, here, Norfolk, I’d be lost without them, the pain of having to migrate is unimaginable. Thinking of Wordsworth’s poetry of place and also listening to Simon Armitage too and thoughts about process ... more food for thought.

This evening I watched the RSC’s production of ‘I, Cinna (The Poet)’.