Since I’ve lived in Spain, one of the joys of visiting the UK has been the glorious green of the countryside. This picture was taken yesterday from the top of Brecon Cathedral tower.
They say if you can see the mountains it’s going to rain, and if you can’t see them it’s already raining.
It did indeed rain later on – several times – but fortunately the showers came when we were indoors or under cover, so the day was pleasantly green and cool for an excursion, quite unlike days out in Spain when we’ve driven up into the mountains in the hope of relief from the heat of Madrid.
I put one such journey into a poem called The Water Seekers many years ago. This is a fragment from that piece:
We stop at a roadside inn:
sour wine and anchovies in vinegar.
The map shows a thin blue line,
but the mountainside
is as brown and bare as the city.
Looking back over this and other pieces I wrote ten or a dozen years ago, I wonder what to do with them. Even then, I knew they didn’t quite work, but that there were phrases and images that had potential. Now I don’t know whether to just forget everything written back then, or to try and fix the problems.
If I decide to ‘fix’ things, should I start from the problem poems, or extract what I think are the few good images and start afresh?