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smokingbootI've been sent a pretty thing.
There's this gorgeous article, long ago and far away in a local paper. It's a simple story, a voice from 1966 dreaming 1894; there is the faintest shadow one must squint to see; the protagonists are 10, 9, and 7 at the time, making them prime candidates in waiting for the horrors of WWI, but I don't think the author considered that. This was a very innocent piece, a beautiful day, spotting trout, picking blaeberries, going to the local farm with a can to collect milk etc. Were it a book it would land somewhere between Tom Sawyer and Larkrise to Candleford. I wonder if the author ever wrote more, and may look for him.
But the key here is, can this be brought to more people as part of the social history of the area, and if so, how? I am not sure. There is no plot as such, it is the prose and the evocation that makes this special. Chums in the charity think it could be turned into a walk, and perhaps it could, but many of the shops remembered in the article are now gone, so there's a disconnect there. My initial feeling is that this could be made a radio play of some kind. Every instinct tells me that it should be either read or spoken aloud, preferably in the dialects of the area before these fade away. On the other hand, having seen some accompanying photos I am wondering if they could be turned into an animation, but I don't know; that option resonates less. I'll have to give this more thought.
Up since 6.30 am just over 2 hours now tired. Ridiculous. How can this be me now, when I was up and dancing with the sunrise in Malta last week? Increasingly I suspect that SAD is a very real issue. For years R has thought I suffer badly from it. He got me one of those lights meant to make a difference but I never felt much from it.
Scotland is amazing, with an underlying culture of friendliness and kindness that I love. There's good and bad everywhere, I know, but when a friend of mine said, 'come to Scotland, it is a gentler place,' she was telling it like it is. Also the light here can be stunning. But it may be that I am just not getting enough of that light to function properly.
Or perhaps there are other factors that have nothing to do with the light. Anyway, 8.47 am. I stop now, read a little, give myself til 10 and start again.
There's this gorgeous article, long ago and far away in a local paper. It's a simple story, a voice from 1966 dreaming 1894; there is the faintest shadow one must squint to see; the protagonists are 10, 9, and 7 at the time, making them prime candidates in waiting for the horrors of WWI, but I don't think the author considered that. This was a very innocent piece, a beautiful day, spotting trout, picking blaeberries, going to the local farm with a can to collect milk etc. Were it a book it would land somewhere between Tom Sawyer and Larkrise to Candleford. I wonder if the author ever wrote more, and may look for him.
But the key here is, can this be brought to more people as part of the social history of the area, and if so, how? I am not sure. There is no plot as such, it is the prose and the evocation that makes this special. Chums in the charity think it could be turned into a walk, and perhaps it could, but many of the shops remembered in the article are now gone, so there's a disconnect there. My initial feeling is that this could be made a radio play of some kind. Every instinct tells me that it should be either read or spoken aloud, preferably in the dialects of the area before these fade away. On the other hand, having seen some accompanying photos I am wondering if they could be turned into an animation, but I don't know; that option resonates less. I'll have to give this more thought.
Up since 6.30 am just over 2 hours now tired. Ridiculous. How can this be me now, when I was up and dancing with the sunrise in Malta last week? Increasingly I suspect that SAD is a very real issue. For years R has thought I suffer badly from it. He got me one of those lights meant to make a difference but I never felt much from it.
Scotland is amazing, with an underlying culture of friendliness and kindness that I love. There's good and bad everywhere, I know, but when a friend of mine said, 'come to Scotland, it is a gentler place,' she was telling it like it is. Also the light here can be stunning. But it may be that I am just not getting enough of that light to function properly.
Or perhaps there are other factors that have nothing to do with the light. Anyway, 8.47 am. I stop now, read a little, give myself til 10 and start again.
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Date: 2025-03-13 12:58 pm (UTC)Places where people are friendly and kind are THE BEST! And I bet the summer light in Scotland is marvelous (I was in Berwick upon Tweed in June decades ago, and the light was incredible)--but like you, I like more light more of the time, and heat. I like heat.
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Date: 2025-03-13 02:03 pm (UTC)There's almost no direct speech in the piece, but I think each paragraph read out in a different voice of Scotland might work. Dialects tend to flatten out into those of the greater demographic. It's nice to preserve yesterday's voices, part of the spirit of place. Whether such an initiative exists in Scotland I don't know, but it wouldn't surprise me. I need to hammer this idea into shape and see what the others think.
I agree with you re light and heat and kind people!