On a train again . . .

Everything back in the suitcase, and off again in the morning, this time for London via Norwich.  It's a tortuous journey by public transport.  But if all the connections work, I'm hoping to meet someone who can tell me more about Norman Nicholson for the new biography. This is the most difficult aspect of biography - tracing family members and friends and hoping that their memories can give you the personal, background details of a life that will make the character come alive. 

Then I'm off to London tomorrow evening for a two day conference on 'Shifting Territories' - an exploration of nature writing and the poetry of place, with Jo Shapcott, David Morley and Alice Oswald.  This is not just a personal interest, I'm also hoping for some new illumination for the biography.  Norman Nicholson was certainly a poet who wrote from and about a particular place - his writing and the landscape he was rooted in were completely interlinked.

Sadly I'm leaving a garden being overwhelmed with weeds because I don't have time to dig it over. It breaks my heart to abandon a garden I spent 20 years creating, but maybe I'll have time to do something when I come back in June.

Ground Elder, nettles and goose grass with the odd bit of geranium!

And the river is very lively at the moment, creeping over the river bank and threatening the garden - unusual for the time of year, but the rain has been relentless.