Nightlife in Wayland

Nightlife

It is December, it is midnight and it is very cold. I have been carol-singing in the village and despite freezing hands, feet and nose I feel warm inside from the pleasure of the evening and, perhaps, the mulled wine. I look up at the sky; it is intensely black behind the confusion of stars and a thin slice of new moon. I know if I turn to face the west the stars will be lost in the glow of street lights from the town which creeps closer and closer as the town eats up the green fields. So I continue to look to the north and east over the village where a deep darkness and the stars prevail. 

It is June, it is three in the morning and it is very warm and very still. Unable to sleep for the heat I am sitting on the front terrace, watching a new day rouse from sleep. A fox barks in the distance, a hedgehog bustles across the lawn, and a Barn owl sweeps along the dusky hedge. A blackbird gives his first tentative call and suddenly the garden is awake, full of chattering birds, from the gentle cooing of the collared doves to the joyous singing of the blackbirds. In the east the soft golden glow has turned to vibrant red as the minutes pass and the sun pops up over the cottage roof next door. Then the gentle sounds of the garden are overwhelmed by the distant, but insistent roar of the traffic as the working day begins. 

©Jan Godfrey, June 27, 2016

The Red Pillow

I grew up in a small town called Borongan in the Eastern part of the Philippines. Borongan was a small fishing village at the time, and fishing was a source of living for most people. Everyone else, worked for the Government and my father was one of them. As the main breadwinner, he worked hard to support us. He bought essential items and he bought us books and taught us to read. I can’t remember whether he bought my red pillow. But it doesn’t matter. My red pillow was part of my childhood and I loved it dearly.

I see it in a bedroom which I shared with my sister. On sleepovers, I insisted on bringing my own pillow, otherwise, I would have difficulty sleeping anywhere. I loved my pillow on its own, without a pillow case. I loved its fresh smell and the warm feel of it on my cheeks on cold nights, and its coolness in the summer. When I was sad, I cried into my pillow and I thought, it cheered me up and provided company. When I went to Uni, I brought my pillow with me and still, it was my comfort in good and bad times.

Now, I’m a mother of two. My oldest son is nearly ten years old, while my youngest is nearly two. The age gap is challenging as both have different needs and interests. My husband works away from home most of the time, and therefore I juggle my time as a lone parent. Do I find comfort in my pillows? They are as comfortable as my old pillow, but I guess I’m a grown up woman now and I find comfort in many things like my family and friends, books and writing to name a few. 

Interestingly, my son has a favourite pillow. He insists on having it every night and does not want me to put it in the wash. When we moved house, it was in his top priority list. As they say, history repeats itself. Perhaps, this is to remind myself to chill, unwind and remember the simple pleasures of my happy and loving childhood. But I wonder how my son’s pillow provides comfort to him.

Today, as I drove him to school, I told him we have a homework in my writing class. Think of an object in my childhood bedroom and I asked him to guess. He said, ‘your favourite red pillow’. I smiled and saw myself in my son.  

Cynthia (Gorleston)

THIRTY WOMEN, THREE LIBRARIES, COUNTLESS STORIES...

Rural Writes is the name of a project to encourage women of all ages in Watton, Swaffham and the Magdalen Estate in Gorleston to write about their experiences of living in rural and coastal communities. 

Thirty women are attending 10 weeks of free creative writing workshops led by two professional writers after Norfolk's Library and Information Service received funding from Arts Council England.

Our aim is to create a bold, honest and vivid narrative of lives lived in the landscape in an anthology published by independent press, Unthank Books. The collection of life-writing will be available to borrow from all Norfolk's libraries and to buy. 

The project is led by Belona Greenwood, co-organiser of Words and Women which supports and celebrates women writers in the East of England and a winner of the Decibel/Penguin prize for Life-Writing alongside award-winning poet Heidi Williamson, a former Swaffham girl whose latest collection of poetry, The Print Museum, has just been launched by Bloodaxe Books.  The anthology will be illustrated by local artist Rose Cowan and edited by novelist Lynne Bryan, and the other half of Words and Women. The project is managed by Anna Brett of Create Projects.  

Rural Writes would simply not be possible without the unstinting support of Norfolk Library and Information Service and the community librarians who are energetically engaged in the project and provide digital and computer skills support to those whose only idea of a mouse is of the furred kind.

This blog is part of the project, it is a place where women from all three groups can post their writing.  It is an opportunity to provide a platform from the writing generated on the course and a way of bringing the women in the groups together and uniting them in common purpose, not only the creation of an amazing book but also a platform to make women's experience of living in rural or coastal areas known.