tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1101448127594176946.post4235607697469964522..comments2023-05-21T04:09:49.787-07:00Comments on My Poor Fool Is Hanged: Just Plain LuckyKeithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05564555114422051880noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1101448127594176946.post-50384127174286643312007-05-10T09:47:00.000-07:002007-05-10T09:47:00.000-07:00Never heard a "yarr or a troat"? Sure you have--yo...Never heard a "yarr or a troat"? Sure you have--you're a father. Babies yarr and troat all the time!<BR/><BR/>Maybe it's so obvious, it's not worth thinking about it, but how is this sense of place or connection to nature cultivated? I grew up in a City, but certainly, nature is there, too. There were amazing flowers, roaches that flew around the backyard and in our bedrooms at night. Cicadas sang all summer and nothing means heat to me more than that sound. But still I don't have a strong connection to Nature, could never consider myself a Nature Writer. But is it true that to be a good writer, one must be grounded in Place (I am using these capitals consciously)? Plumly says all writers should be gardeners. What is the relationship between nature and creative writing? Is it necessary? Who were the truly great writers that were not strongly connected to Nature or Place? I can't even think of one off the top of my head.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1101448127594176946.post-82817745640224677532007-05-10T09:28:00.000-07:002007-05-10T09:28:00.000-07:00I didn't live in El Granada, but I had a friend wh...I didn't live in El Granada, but I had a friend who lived in Miramar, and I spent a lot of time with him in those years between the time we were 17 and 21. I know that friend would prefer to remain anonymous. I remember thinking that there could be no place in the world more beautiful than where we were. I don't remember about the big fire, but I do remember driving on the coast highway with my friend late one night and seeing a burning barn somewhere south of Half Moon Bay. In a previous post, you asked about Devil's Slide. Did you ever go inside the WWII bunkers that were hidden in the hill near it? <BR/><BR/>I look forward to reading your long poem about ocean and El Granada.amhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09212213177713917828noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1101448127594176946.post-64818861364005696322007-05-10T09:20:00.000-07:002007-05-10T09:20:00.000-07:00Robin, hi. Thank you for the visit and your commen...Robin, hi. Thank you for the visit and your comment. Nettles ... man. Those really hurt. Blindly in so to speak, but not blindly out.Keithhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05564555114422051880noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1101448127594176946.post-75789382377226191982007-05-09T19:15:00.000-07:002007-05-09T19:15:00.000-07:00I keep coming back here and re-reading this post a...I keep coming back here and re-reading this post and the poem below about the monk's self-immolation. So many images. All I can think to write is that I once walked blindly into a field of stinging nettle. I never forgot.robin andreahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13390482190562312928noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1101448127594176946.post-39327491930230291972007-05-09T09:27:00.000-07:002007-05-09T09:27:00.000-07:00Am! I had no idea you actually lived there once. H...Am! <BR/><BR/>I had no idea you actually lived there once. How exciting. May I ask where you lived? <BR/><BR/>And do you remember a big fire on the hillside in El Granada - in general, up behind Santiago lane.<BR/><BR/>I am working on a long poem (going on 6 years now) about the ocean and living in El Granada. I will have to send it to you when I get it closer to where it belongs.Keithhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05564555114422051880noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1101448127594176946.post-45437377368676999052007-05-09T09:07:00.000-07:002007-05-09T09:07:00.000-07:00As I was trying to think of something to say today...As I was trying to think of something to say today about my "painting," I thought of the same word you used to describe El Granada and vicinity as it was in the late 60s and early 70s. It seemed like paradise to me, too. We used to call those lizards ''blue bellies." Thank you for your vivid memories.amhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09212213177713917828noreply@blogger.com