Walking with Fay and Ted - a touch of writer's block on a writer's retreat in Yorkshire

Poetry by Ted Hughes and photography by Fay Godwin

I wanted to get away. Somewhere different. To see some new scenery.

Somewhere with hills.

So where better that Lumb Bank, for a writer's retreat with the Arvon Foundation. Five days of peace. To write.

Or not, as the case may be.

Lumb Bank, Yorkshire

Lumb bank is the former home of Ted Hughes, the poet. His wife, Sylvia Plath is buried in the graveyard just up the road. Fay Godwin, the legendary landscape photographer, and Ted Hughes created a book together 'Remains of Elmet'. Ted Hughes wrote poems in response to photographs by Fay Godwin.

I found the book in the library and was taken by the words and images describing the local landscape.

I felt sure I would find inspiration here.

With a view like this what could go wrong?

The view from Lumb Bank garden

My fellow companions were writers in ernest.

Autofiction, a comic travel novel, a wellness book and the story of a goldfish on adventures in the Gulf of Mexico were all being worked upon seriously and diligently.

I felt a fraud. I was really there for the scenery.
I tried to write.

I really did.

I wrote some 'morning pages' every day before so much as  a cup of tea passed my lips.

I wrote some 'breakfast pages' too. Mainly about how I was not really enjoying breakfast 'in my room'. Something to do with covid...... and featuring a banana and a soggy croissant wrapped in plastic.

After recording my daily temperature......taken by me, myself and I, I set to work.

covid daily temperature chart

I sat at my tiny writing table with its puritanical hard wood chair, and tried to write.

a writing table

If in doubt. Go for a walk. That is my motto.

Something always comes from walking, even if it is just a calmer frame of mind.

So I loaded up my OS map onto my phone, and away I went.

Up hill and down dale. Along the Rochdale canal and up onto the moor.

up on the moor, following the Pennine Way

I talked to cows and sheep.

Stepped in bog.

Walked by lush, peaty rivers.

moorland sheep

---

ancient stone path

I strolled by the Rochdale canal.

towpath, Rochdale canal, with dog.

back yards beside the rochdale canal

Rochdale Canal

And then, when I was completely exhausted, I tried to write.

I learned a lot about writer's block. I read self help books for writers.
I felt frustrated.
I went for more walks.

I got my typewriter out.

Olympia Splendid typewriter

Eventually I gave up trying and instead made a book about writer's block. The cutting, typing and sewing were very therapeutic.

artist book - writer's block

Having completed that, I allowed myself to give up trying to write, and to spend my remaining day beside the river, in the damp beech forest, and watching cherry blossom drift by on the Rochdale Canal.




There is a moral to this tale......

Creativity cannot be forced...... it comes when it is ready, and while I can work at it daily, first and foremost I need to feed my soul .

I had a wonderful time. And if nothing more comes of it, then at least I am refreshed and ready for my next adventure.

wild garlic and beeches

'

In wild places

I went on a ‘writer’s retreat’.
To Hebden Bridge; the home of Ted Hughes.

But really, all that I wanted to do was to see some hills and green fields,
running water and moors.

To step out in a different landscape,
climb on boggy paths and feel the wind on my face.

I needed to walk beside rivers and streams;
to leave my footprints once more upon the Pennine Way.

I didn’t write.
No words came.

Instead I walked
and walked,
and walked some more.

There, in those wild places,
I was reunited
with my true self.

 

Throwing grass and letting go in the Hebrides

Luskentyre, Harris

Harris, in the Outer hebrides.



My favourite place in the world.

I went for just four days, determined to do very little other than walk, write and take some photos.

I was thinking all the while about ways to do very little, or as I thought of it 'practically nothing'.

I found a few ways.

Collecting shells on the beach was my first.

On Scarista beach I collected sea urchin fragments. They reminded me of Paul Kenny's work, 'Heaven or Las Vegas', Ross strand, Mayo, 2008, shown below.

Why so rectangular, when a sea urchin is round, I kept thinking.

https://paul-kenny.co.uk/photo_5003362.html

My fragments were less varied in colour.

homage to Paul Kenny, 2019

I photographed them on my notebook and then dissembled the arrangement, not wanting to copy Paul's work.

I found a number of sheep with lambs to talk to.

lamb and ewe, Harris 2019

My favourite was this brown one.

We had a good chat, eye to eye.

I said more than she did.

I revisited all of my favourite beaches.

I had forgotten how white the sand is, and how clear the water.

Such a sense of space and freedom.

Luskentyre, Harris 2019

And when I had tired of walking on sand, I decided to explore the old coffin road that crosses the island from west to east.

Coffin Road, Harris

By this time I was so good at doing practically nothing that I started to play a little.

I searched for circles of lichen on rocks, but the rocks were mostly unappealing.

Still trying to do nothing in particular I waited for three o'clock.

It came.

I walked on, and was soon drawn to some curling grasses by the roadside.

I pulled some and held it, trying to photograph the curling blades with the road ahead.

Then I threw some into the air to catch the wind.

It flew.

I tried to throw and capture it on my camera; not easy with one hand.

I failed over and over.

But the very act of throwing gave more pleasure than I care to admit.

Finally I managed, just once,  to catch a tendril before it fell.

throwing grass, Harris , 2019

Somehow this one photograph captures everything that I was feeling.... a sense of freedom and lightness.

It is my favourite image from the trip.

Later I wrote some words to accompany it.

First I tried typing a note on my typewriter. There is no option to change and edit as one writes with a typewriter, so the first draft is quite spontaneous.

Later I revisited these thoughts and tried some different words in my notebook, writing and re-writing, playing with verbs.

I call them 'Letting Go'.

Letting go

throwing 

throwing grass

pulling

tearing

throwing

grass

pulling skywards

throwing windwards

throwing

blowing

falling

splaying

throw

pull

watch

blow

grip

pull

drop

fly

fall

let

go

 **************

Finding ways to do nothing was a good way to spend a few days.

I won't leave it so long before I go back next time.

Northton, Harris

I'm not on the train......... I'm in the bush ....... at Orokonui ecosanctuary

A weekend away.

Not far. Two hours from oamaru is Dunedin ; a large university town with a railway, cruise liners and for the likes of me, a beautiful peninsula of hills and beaches.

I headed to Portobello, beside the sea.

It was very cold the first day. So cold that I had to put on my favourite socks,

But it didn't last. It turned out very nice.

And while the sun shone I explored.

Saturday was the pyramids and the beach.

the small pyramid at Victory beach

I duly climbed the pyramid and got a wonderful view. I had it all to myself.

looking south from the pyramid

marshland below the small pyramid

grassy paths below the small pyramid

Soon after my descent a large party arrived to climb the hill. I was safely on my way to the beach before all 30 of them crowded at the top.

The other pyramid is easily seen from the top .

larger pyramid at Victory beach

The beach was beautiful.

White sand and sparkling waves.

Victory beach

obligatory selfie

Victory beach

I relaxed in the sunshine, and then spent the rest of the day exploring the peninsula, meeting dogs and sheep along the way.

The dog was a lot better company than the sheep.

dog

sheep

sheep 

Beach side huts are common on the coast.


Interpret this one as you will.

So that was Saturday.

On Sunday I was to ride the Taieri Gorge railway.

I got up very early for the occasion. Seven o'clock on a Sunday morning.

I drove to the railway station.



I was early so I took a few photos.

I looked at my ticket.


It said I was due to travel on Saturday. I was a day late.

I talked to the good folk in the ticket office.

They kindly upgraded me to the longer journey to Middlemarch. A six hour return trip.

Time was passing. I was not sure about six hours on a train on such a beautiful day.


A very expensive piece of paper......

I chickened out at the last minute.

Turned back to the car and escaped.

I couldn't face a few hours of sitting cooped with a number of strangers who looked more keen to be there than I.

I headed off up the road to Oronokui Ecosanctuary.

The best decision that I have made this month.

It was heavenly.

I spent hours there.

Orokonui ecosanctuary cafe

Orokonui ecosanctuary

my bird photography leaves a lot to be desired.... this is a Kaka

The bird song was vibrant and loud.


I made lots of recordings, for these are the sounds that I associate with South Island.

Easter orchid

ferns

young lancewood trees

If you have a few spare minutes and are really bored, or just looking to relax,  here are some photos, a video and lots of noisy bird sounds in a video compilation from the sanctuary.