Saint Andrews and StAnza

Sorry to be leaving this quaint town with its stone houses and lovely shoreline. Yesterday the sun was out, the sky blue, and walking along the harbour, I met a woman walking the other way with a dog, We nodded to one another. ‘Beautiful day,’ we agreed, and I ‘Is is always so beautiful here?’ ‘No,’ she responded, as we went our ways. A few fishing boats, a couple yachts, traps for crabs or lobsters, stack on the quay. People on the wide, wide strand, a little like Scheveningen, near The Hague in Holland, on the North Sea. But also something of Vancouver to make me feel at home. Lush nature, but at the same time, something austere in the air.

The reading went well. The real treat was to hear Michael Longley read yesterday evening. I’ve long had most of his books, but I’ve never seen or heard him, and it was certainly one of the outstanding readings I’ve been to, ever. No space between the poet and poems, and one felt, the man. Of course, this could just be the perfection of the persona, but if so, it wasn’t obvious. He ended before his time was up and came and sat in the audience for the second reading. He says he is publishing a new book soon, ‘about grandchildren,’ and ‘it may be my last.’

StAnza is, I believe, Scotland’s most important poetry festival. I was glad I was here.