After rushing about and failing to find my flask and my new notebook I decided that the only thing to be done was to forget my worries and just walk, and as I had also mislaid my phone earlier in the week I was free of the job of tweeting and went foot first into the beautiful coast.
We live in the most beautiful of regions and I was skipping happy as we headed out into Aberlady Bay. With Colin’s expert knowledge I started to name and identify, the flower, the bird call and the hoping thing in the sand- the sandhopper! As Colin said it’s name it hopped obediently away.
My first writing was inspired by the oyster shell and heart shaped urchin on the bay. Sitting in a circle of stones, in a circle of writers – I resisted the urge to shout out with joy.
Pulled in by the Forth. Almost to the shore. Left standing with near ancient oyster shells. Waiting. Waiting for my old crones, my voices from the docks, for my ancestors hardened with barnacles, by delicate urchin hearts.
Writing is such a solitary business but I found great inspiration in the sharing, in the walking together and the little snippets we gave to each other- borrowing and swapping little lines and views of the coast- seeing the community of the day in our words.
She knew they were in trouble when he told her he hated the rain. No puddle jumping, no kissing in bus shelters- the pitter pattering steaming up the plastic panes. No wet socks drying by the electric fire.
No, he wanted the heat- wanted it tropical. White hot sand and tequila shots, tops off for the barbie and moonlight dips, but this wasn't her way, so she left him wanting by the travel agents and walked away - hood down.
What a day! Enjoying the welcome pint at the lovely Rocks we all agreed this was the way to launch a festival of words.
And as I made it weary through the door I was delighted to see that we had already sold tickets- looking forward, looking CoastWord to June…not long now!