In February 2021, locked-down and frustrated, I undertook a daily walk to photograph and write about one fixed place, a bench facing onto the Campsie Fells.
Each cold day, I tramped away from the house with the new pup and recorded 28 short 'noticings' to document the bench, the landscape, my emotions. These became a poem sequence called bench II marks.
As a final gesture, I shared the poem by leaving it (anonymously!) in a biscuit tin on the bench, with instructions inviting local walkers to take the bench//mark poems away and to respond with their own writing if they chose to. I included sweeties (as an incentive to linger), coloured pens, and hand sanitiser. The responses were heart-warming and affirming – so many walkers like me, felt connected to the landscape in different ways and were happy to share this. Many also found that taking the time to sit, reflect and write a response connected them to others, and to the local history of the area. During a lonely, isolating time, this piece of art acted as a fun way to connect some members of the local community.
This act of walking and noticing has become my daily practice: a way to ground myself and stay connected, to reflect and meditate during what has been an extraordinarily difficult year.
This project will be included in the the University of Glasgow's WalkCreate gallery
Some extracts of the work follow:
Day 1
blue sky icy wind
pup refuses the river
so we tramp the track
where the bench is planted
solid slats
against a saltire sky
a beginning
day 3
rusty call of a great tit
squeaks through drizzle
Ben Lomond wears a jaunty snow cap
pup pees on his favourite tussock
I wonder at a broken gate
flat on its back
day 8
I am relieved to escape the heat in the house
walk into pale sun and open sky
a gift after days of gloom locked down
locked in locked up
then the sky stoops and spills
a burden of snow
pup confused as the sky sheds itself
across the valley
I stumble blinded
past Bench
drenched, stamp my boots
back in the hot kitchen
day 12
today I am a reluctant walker
wind crying around the house
so much going on inside
but pup drives us out
cloud-mottled sky
mirrored by ground snow
an upside-down world
ice globules hang
from river rocks
pup’s fur camouflaged against
brown-black land
then emerges through white
he reappears like a mirage
or a miracle
day 20
crunch of gravel underfoot
holds me in my skin
Bench watches the horizon
wheel with stars
relationships unwind and respool
fallen moss-limed birch
pocked by starry vermilion mushroom cups
small flying saucers from
a colourful planet
elsewhere
day 26
why am I never tempted to sit down?
day 27
after the walk
I drop clothes off for you at the hospital
a nurse collects the bag from me at the entrance
no visitors
until this is all over
then we’ll see
