So, a New Year, a new website.
The gestation of this has been long. I am not very quick at grasping computer things and it always takes me a while to mull over new ideas. In 2013 I made my first small website as part of the business of selling my East Ross home. That ‘dipping of the toe in the technical water’ led me to think that a website for my writing and other hobbies might be a good thing ... and here we are.
Although I am now involved in writing a novel (standing at 78,000 words) I write mostly poetry and that is what I will post here, along with photos. My Elfnotes (I loathe the word “Blog”!) will I suspect wander around many subjects, not just my hobbies.
The photo above was taken last September. It provides grist to the mill of my theory that good landscape photography is, to a fairly large extent, a matter of luck with lighting. One has to be in a place at exactly the right time with regard to what the sun is doing. Thirty seconds - sometimes less - either side of that moment changes it completely. (Rainbows are particularly hard to capture - I haven’t managed a satisfactory one yet.) For a number of years now I have made up a calendar for family and friends and I suspect the photo above will appear in the 2016 calendar.
Choosing which poems to post first has not been easy. The mood and tone of my poems varies a great deal and no doubt what some people will like, others will turn away from. I have selected three relatively recent ones. ‘Feanagan‘ will present, particularly for the non-Scots among you, some words with which you may not be familiar. “Thrawn" is a good old Scots word which, like many words, has more than one meaning, but is most commonly used as obstinate and/or sullen; it seems an apt description. "Caoin" is a Gaelic word which, if you look in a dictionary, translates literally as ‘weeping’, but as ever with translations there's more to it than that (and isn't that the thing with language - the subtlety of understanding matters too). It may be just an island thing, but to caoin is to make a kind of quiet wailing sound born of sore grief; it's the sound that comes after the uncontrollable sobbing passes and it's a sound, having heard it, one never forgets. “Feanagan” itself is also a Gaelic word, the English translation of which is ‘lazybed’. If you’re not sure what lazybeds are, Google will point you in the right direction.
I hope you will enjoy what you read here and, as the website grows over the coming weeks and months, I hope you will return.
PS : why “Elfnotes”? - when I first joined a writing site around ten years ago I chose Elfstone as my user name and I am now known as that on several sites.