On Saturday I took a beautiful walk along the Canal du Midi. When I came home I wrote a simple list of the things I saw.
I am, as I mentioned in my very first post, a great fan of the List. When I was travelling in the eighties I kept a journal but often ended the entries with a free flowing list – capturing the places in its objects and in my fleeting impressions.
Here is my Canal Du Midi list:
pale clover, flag irises, thick green water, silver shifting grasses, boats too old to sail, half sunk, battered, peeling paint, freckled butterflies, Plane trees -spotted with age, holding the banks for centuries, a family picnic, pink bindweed, voices indistinct sucked into water, distant clank of freight, birdsong, mallards, nightingales, washing on lines strung between trees, shuttered house barely seen, open vistas to the vineyards of early summer, filtered sunlight, dogs on the pathway, bicycles, walkers, fishermen, mad-eyed young men, smiles, Bonjour Madame, bright new boats parting waters, diners aboard under neat umbrellas, dreadlocks, henna, where salt water meets fresh, the green Herault.
And from this list came my poem (still in early draft) – the words, ‘ come and live with me on the canal Du Midi,’ kept echoing round in my head as I walked
Nice Idea Honey
If I asked you to
come and live with me on the
Canal du Midi
in a boat past sailing
under plain trees dappled
with age
come…and live with me
among pale flowers
irises and bankside washing
in the distant clunk of freight
where voices muffle in
the green Herualt
if I asked you, you would
say nice idea honey but…
If you asked me to
come and live with you on the
Canal Du Midi
by the vineyards of early summer
with the nightingales, fishermen,
dogs, and mad-eyed young men
if you asked me to buy a bicycle and flee
I would say nice idea honey but..
what if, what if this,
if that – what is free-
it’s a nice idea honey- nice,
that I can ask you-
because I know
you will never ask me.
Here are some more pictures of my walk
This is beautiful Avril. Have you heard the nightingales yet? When we get back in a few weeks, I think an evening picnic by the canal is very much in order.
Bonne continuation!
Dx
Brilliant post and such a moving and accomplished poem, One for the collection I think.
The canal features, as you know, in my novel. Perhaps I should just stay at home and use your pictures as inspiration…
wx
It comes as no suprise that your list became a poem. As i read it, it was instantly clear to me that it was a list of enthusiams. I can’t think of any good poet who was not moved to their writing by enthusiasm for the little things; that somehow are an expression of gratitude and elation.
Warren x
What beautiful pictures, I especially love the dishcloths pegged out on the line. I find there is something quite fascinating about other people’s laundry. The poem has such pace, I felt as though it were being sung to me when I read it in my head. I plan to take a walk through Notting Hill tomorrow and now look forward to the list I may write observing the candy coloured facades of the houses that belong to the people I imagine knowing.
Kate x
Thank you all for such lovely thoughtful comments – ‘the enthusiam for little things’ is a wonderful phrase and I think it was David Almond who said that writing was about the naming of objects – in fact these small things
Hope you enjoy your walk through Notting Hill – Kate – many of the facades of the houses here are coloured – but the the colour is different – I am going to post some pictures of them soon
Have become proud owner of a bicyle so will be down to the canal in the evening to listen for the nightingales Debora – I agree an evening picnic is a must.
Ax