Articles from: 2012

Spring is ever closer – in fact a couple of days ago some blue sky appeared overhead on my afternoon walk, the birds were in full throat (well, almost), the views across the dale were distinctly softer, and I had me a new spring song by the time I got home…

I’ve been checking out the local music scene – singing with two different community choruses (the choir thing is very strong in this part of the world) and playing/singing at a couple of different folk music venues. The choruses rehearse in schools – both in Barnard Castle, the local market town (Barney, as it’s known), one in the state school, the other in the private one, or “public” as they’re called here, very confusing – and the music is made in pubs – one at the Old Well in Barney, a monthly gathering of the B.C.Folk Club, and the other in the tiny hamlet of Butterknowle, a half-hour drive along tortuous back roads to the back of beyond, but a thriving community and happening gathering. A wide range of talent from beginner to pretty great, they’ve all been very welcoming to a stranger from across the pond playing ‘foreign’ music – tho’ I do know some traditional tunes, and am spending time with the mandolin learning more – I’ve been taken under the wing of a whistle player who lives in the village, so I have some local cred… And the choir singing is really good for the wind, after years of singing on a microphone… all grist to the mill…

It’s strange… it’s still winter, but you can feel the burgeoning of the coming spring… the birdsong has shifted, and not only are the snowdrops out in force (not in themselves a signal, they stick their heads up happily through the snow) but I caught the first sight of a crocus bud yesterday, and even, down in the lowlands of Richmond this afternoon, where I’d gone for an Alexander technique lesson, the first daffodils – hallelujah. However, I always want to shout “go back, go back!”, as we are sure to get more frost and snow before the winter is out, and things are already confused enough, with the mild january followed by a real deep freeze for the past couple weeks – poor trees don’t know if they’re coming or going…

The sudden frosts create the most fantastic ice patterns on the banks of the river – with the rapid drop in temperature, and the consequent slight drop in water level, the most amazing ice crystals form around the rocks by the water’s edge, star bursts of crystals up to 4 or 5 inches long… and one morning a skin on the surface of the river like cellophane…

After 6 weeks of family visits, it’s just me and my 91-year-old mum (and her two ancient dogs, and my ancient aunt down the road). Theoretically I should be able to get down to work, now that my studio doesn’t have californians staying in it, but it is surprisingly hard… I am not accustomed to grabbing an hour here or there in between caring for other people (unlike some people I know who have written whole books – mainly between the hours of 2 and 4 a.m. – while raising children and holding down a job)… I guess I’m spoiled rotten, having lived alone for the past ten years, and so used to being able to just disappear down the rabbit hole when the spirit (or deadline) moves me, leaving the world behind… is it too late to teach this old dog new tricks?

I caught the David Hockney exhibit at the Royal Academy in London – what a colour bath for the eyes – he is a wonder. He lives and works in Yorkshire now, not so very far from here, and I recognise his landscape – he too moved back to be near his aged mum, and reconnected with his roots after a lifetime away in the States – strange…