TONGUES IN TREES
It was, after all, nearly the solstice; and the summer solstice in GB is almost always wet.
The thing about the weather is that we can resist it, or we can accept it on its terms. So the at-times-heavy rain that accompanied my 'Tongues in Trees' poetry day in a wood on Dartmoor on Sunday could have spoiled the day. But when you're under a leaf canopy on which the rain plays such sweet music, you're engaged with trees in a wood called Druid - yes really – and you're on a quest for words, how can it be miserable? Especially, I should have added, when you have a campfire with two big kettles to huddle round. 16 writers joining me in the woodland to do what I love doing – spending time outdoors, and writing – was bliss.
The yearlong online Tongues in Trees course I've been leading has been immensely rewarding: for me, and for the participants who have been in communication with me about it. Exciting times. I work with just a handful of people on a 1-to-1 basis, and am taking bookings for 2020 now.
You will remember how upset I've been about the absence of swallows, martins and swifts in our summer skies in Britain. The RSPB has confirmed that swift numbers are down by 50% odd; and far fewer of the other two than before. Insecticides and climate change weather conditions are part of the picture. I would still like to know how your hirundines are faring.
Meantime, I take consolation in the increase in bullfinches and goldfinches here. I've watched wrens, great tits and willow tits learning to fly at very close quarters. At the top of our small woodland we've a nest of sparrowhawks: wonderful to hear and watch them above us, though not without a pang because the land of which we are guardians is very bird-rich. (As I write this a green woodpecker is yaffling in the oak tree that adjoins my garden study.)
ISLANDS OF THE HEART
I was delighted that The Telegraph of June 8th 2019 included my Isle of Iona writing weeks in their ten 'world's best creative writing courses'. Next year will be my 20th of leading this course. Due to cancellations, there are just one or two places left on this September's week, and on the 2020 one.
Iona: The Glass-Blue Day
The way sky inhabits the creases
smears colour that steals your breath
The sand so pale it might be grains of light
The big Hebridean night that opens its arms
and drops its creel of stars
towards our upturned faces
© Roselle Angwin
If you would enjoy some intensive work on your poetry, including putting together a collection, in a stunning place this autumn, then you might want to consider my THE WELL OF POETRY weeks in the Cévennes mountains of southern France.
TM has been going round the place smiling a lot (he normally has a sober thoughtful expression). TM is a self-declared cat-man. The reason he's happy? Our two newish pups. Who'd have thought it?
GETTING THE WRITING RIGHT
You might remember the book I've been banging on about a bit, for a while, written partly (mostly) in and about a Brittany forest.
Sometimes it takes another to see what you can't. Or to ask the right question. A couple of weeks ago I was mentioning to a friend that I knew something was adrift with it, but couldn't identify it. 'What would you say to a student who brought you that problem?' she asked. No hesitation on my part. 'That you're writing three books.' So – yes. BIG rewrite.
Yes, I know that's a contradiction in terms. And I know that cheese is the thing I miss most, by a long way.
How wonderful, then, that I've found three new 'cheeses' – tasty; and what's more in environmentally-friendly packaging.
Tyne Chease makes solid 'cheese' in flavours like smoked (my favourite), mustard (2nd favourite), as well as pink peppercorn, Ethopian spice, and others. It's delicious, and packaged in balsa wood, waxed paper and shavings.
They also do a soft 'cheese' in a number of flavours – TM, who still eats dairy, likes this as much as dairy soft cheese. It comes in glass. No, it's not cheap. But neither is dairy cheese. I simply eat less.
New to me is Mouse's Favourite. Their camembert blue is amazing. Packaging is card and compostable wrapping.
And if you don't know Coyo yogurt, made as it sounds from coconuts, try it. Again, TM eats this in preference to dairy yogurt – and he's a big dairy fan.
The Guardian noted on 15th June that the number of Britons converting to plant-based diets has quadrupled between 2014 and 2018 to 600,000. That's a whole lot less animal suffering and carbon emissions.
Meantime, I've invented a delicious pickle to eat with your non-cheese. I'll be posting it on 57billion.org over the next day or two, with a couple more recipes.
One of the things I'm most concerned about is electromagnetic frequency (EMF) emissions. More than 30 years ago a doctor (ie not a flaky hippy as I've been called) said to me that if EMFs were coloured we'd be a whole lot less complacent about the quantity we're putting into the atmosphere. As it is, we're actually complicit in frying ourselves – irradiating ourselves – for the sake of being permanently 'connected'.
We need to resist 5G (Brussels – the city – along with various other places has banned it). It's bad news not only to humans but to animals, birds, plants and trees too. Worse, as it will be beamed from around 20,000 satellites (I think), there will be nowhere on earth we can escape it.
Having a daughter who's extremely electro-sensitive has really focused me on the issue of human-made electromagnetic radiation and the thick 'soup' that we've created – so very many times more EMFs in the atmosphere in the last 50 years than the naturally-occurring ones.
Yes, whatever people (and the telecoms industries) might say to the contrary, they ARE harmful: to us, especially children; to animals and birds; to trees and plants. And with 5G there will be nowhere on earth to avoid them. 5G is orders of magnitude greater than 4G. And no, in case someone has said to you that non-ionizing EMFs are perfectly safe, that's simply not true from the research.
Please, people, inform yourselves. Get rid of your smartphone. Please learn about switching devices off and unplugging them when you're not using them, especially at night: mobile phones (If you look you will see that the phone's own small print, within the device, tells you not to hold it close to your ear, btw); tablets; computers; and if you have a clock radio in your room, try removing it.
Change your cordless phone for a corded one (better for you and also to help the nesting habits of house sparrows). CABLE your internet instead of using Wifi (switch the Wifi off. If you've a BT router you'll need to ask them to do that.) Oh yes, don't have a smart meter foisted on you, by anyone.
I've done these things: I'm sleeping better; my tinnitus is receding; I'm less dizzy and my heart arrhythmia is greatly improved.
If you want to follow up, look at Dr Martin Blank's 'Overpowered' (or for an easier layperson read that summarises all the research go for Nicholas Pineault's The Non-Tinfoil Guide to EMFs – I actually really enjoyed reading it!).
Meantime, please do look at this link and sign and share (it's an international appeal to the UN, WHO, EU, Council of Europe and governments worldwide from doctors and scientists who know that 5G will cause widespread harm).
Here's an excerpt: 'Despite widespread denial, the evidence that radio frequency (RF) radiation is harmful to life is already overwhelming. The accumulated clinical evidence of sick and injured human beings, experimental evidence of damage to DNA, cells and organ systems in a wide variety of plants and animals, and epidemiological evidence that the major diseases of modern civilization—cancer, heart disease and diabetes—are in large part caused by electromagnetic pollution, forms a literature base of well over 10,000 peer-reviewed studies.'
THE PROMISED POEM
And finally, to end on a happier note, here's my 'Other Solstice Poem':
We have made this garden
but in the early solstice sunlight
slant to the brim of the courtyard
where it falls on the indescribable
blue, the ultraviolet blue, of cranesbills
and their neighbouring pot, the garden
and this light are making us.
© Roselle Angwin