A week to myself

IMG_0107IMG_0082This week I’m away from Liverpool, at Laugharne in South Wales. A week on my own, away from my work and my laptop. To walk, read, maybe write and on the whole do not much of anything. A retreat. I’ve brought some music, some poetry, some t-shirts and not much else.

As the week goes by I’ll add some words and photos to this blog of my week.

Before I leave some time with my family at Africa Oyé in Sefton Park. Then I finish packing, and leave home early Monday morning.

My daughter Clare Melhuish with 2 of her children, Finn and Ellie.

 

Monday

Well, I’m now here in Laugharne and pronouncing it ‘Larne’ like the locals do. And typing this on my phone on the balcony where I already know I’m going to spend a lot of this week.

IMG_0082IMG_0085IMG_0087So  then. At home here in South Wales.

Evening now and walking the streets and winding steps of the place. Finding Dylan Thomas nearly everywhere, as I thought I would. His Under Milkwood writing shed, the boathouse where they lived, his words.

IMG_0089IMG_0091IMG_0095IMG_0100IMG_0099“Only you can hear the houses sleeping in the streets in the slow deep salt and silent black bandaged night.”

Now the herons cry all at once, the sun goes down and I read on in its afterglow.

IMG_0104Tuesday

A sleep late slow walk midsummer pilgrimage day. The boathouse, the long lane to his grave, their pubs, their township and finding shade enough to finish his biography.

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IMG_0109IMG_0113IMG_0118IMG_0121IMG_0123IMG_0126IMG_0130IMG_0132IMG_0135IMG_0137IMG_0138IMG_0140In the afternoon I walk the high hill from his ‘Poem in October.’

“And I saw in the turning so clearly a child’s forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother through the parables of sunlight and the legends of the green chapels”

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Along the woody path from the end of Dylan’s walk is this plaque. Meaningful or nonsensical? Or maybe Llareggub?

IMG_0146IMG_0144Evening now and Tuesday ending in perfect reflective peace.

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Starless and bible black.

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Now I will be quiet.

Saturday

The rest of the week has been for me. A quiet time of thinking, walking and being happily alone.

I stayed at Tre Bentir, Laugharne, a perfect place.

9 thoughts on “A week to myself

    1. Ronnie Hughes Post author

      Thank you Cathy. I’m ambling around seeing where poetry takes me. Maybe to some of my own? As well as Dylan Thomas I have Kate Tempest and Leonard Cohen here to inspire me, maybe.

      Reply
  1. memoirsofahusk

    Leonard Cohen’s poetry? That man, love him. And my childhood was punctuated by rare and special occasions listening to Under Milk Wood on an LP narrated by Richard Burton sitting quietly with my mum and dad. Ahhh. So beautiful. An utterly enviable way with words. It looks lovely, hope the retreat has worked its magic for you.

    Reply
    1. Ronnie Hughes Post author

      It’s been quietly beautiful Mary. Somehow it’s been seven years since I last did anything like this. I’ll go and find that Richard Burton record.

      Reply
      1. memoirsofahusk

        I’ve started looking for somewhere to retreat myself for a few days while Larry’s away (for 5 weeks) in Zambia – left it too late I think, but I will persevere… So glad you found the Richard Burton recording. Mine’s scratchy but still works!

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