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The double whammy of work and weather has resulted in very little to report, with much of my time spent indoors, holed up like Miss Haversham. I think as a result of this state of stir craziness, I have felt a calling to see the sea again. It feels like a long time since I heard the roar of the waves. Maybe as island dwellers, we need that every once in a while.
Sitting by lamp light in the recent snowstorm, notebook in hand, my thoughts wandered from the latest (at times) troublesome wedding shoot I'm planning, to that famous literary bride, Lorna Doone. If you've never read the book, it's a romance novel set in 17th Century Exmoor, also encompassing a number of gothic themes...innocent victim, good versus evil, romance and death. Parts of the Victorian novel were written by author R.D. Blackmore in one of my favourite places in the UK, Lynmouth, the picturesque fishing village on the North Devon coast and the story is set no more than 5 miles away, taking in the stunning landscape; the purple clad moors and watery valleys of Exmoor.
If you don't know the story, I won't spoil it, but it is a tale of the forbidden romance between Lorna Doone (a member of the outlaw Doone family, but not by blood) and farmer, John Ridd, whose father was murdered by the head of the Doone family, Carver, some years before. It is Carver's will that Lorna should ultimately become his bride, so there are no prizes for guessing that John and Lorna's journey is not a smooth one. Their romance begins at the "water slide" a water fall in the "Doone Valley" near the hamlet of Oare. I will say no more, although, to be fair, you've had plenty of time to catch up, given that the book was published in 1869!
So, as a stop gap until normal blogging activity resumes, here's the resulting poem from one snowy night in March.
She fell like water
Her feared and sullied namesake
Cleansed by a promise for freedom
The renewal of daybreak
Old blood, John's blood
Time 'n' turmoil ploughed in earth
Love binds, takes root
What grows in the mirk?
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| Exmoor |
Forlorn Lorna
Run to the sea
The waves are whispering
"Come see me."
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| Out to sea, Lynmouth |
Bad bloodletting in the valley
In the shadow of Oare
No love match, a vengeful watch
Weeping like a festering sore
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| Valley of the Rocks |
Forlorn Lorna
Run to the sea
The waves are gathering
"Come see me."
A wedding like no other
A woman upon high
Forbidden, chastened, a ghost in waiting
A vision all in white
Forlorn Lorna
Run to the sea
The waves are roaring
"Come see me."
A crack on the wind
Glass on the altar
Carver's stain, crimson on silk
She fell like water
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| Oare Church |
Forlorn Lorna
Run to the sea
The waves are lapping
"Come see me."
A heart breaks and hooves race
A violet, violent end
Possessiveness and dark desire
Returning to the mire
Forlorn Lorna
Breathing still
The sea is calm now
True love's will
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| Taking flight, Exmoor |
