Monday, August 20, 2012

Writers' Residence, Last Week, Last Post

Morning walk through the vineyards, past the ponies in the meadow, along the winding village street. In the chateau, the sounds of leaving: the zip and thud of suitcases, the car in the courtyard.

Writing is its own place: you have to go inside (yourself) and stay there. As long as it is quiet enough, I think I could write anywhere.  But I will miss the physical joys and material pleasures of Lavigny, its rolling fields and rose gardens, the view to the lake and the Alps, the silk-canopied beds and deeply quiet rooms. I will miss my writing desk in front of a window completely filled with the cool green leaves of a sycamore tree. I will miss getting up from this desk in the late afternoon and going down to Lake Geneva to swim. I will miss the magpies and the starlings and the lavender sky at dusk. 

I will miss having breakfast with poets. 


  1. Ms. Zeppa, I'm planning a short trip to Bhutan. and went to the library last week to look for books on the country. Not surprisingly, there were only a handful; yours was one of the three that I borrowed. I'm so glad I did. It's a beautiful account of life in a fascinating country and I couldn't put it down. Thank you for a wonderful read.


    1. Thank you, Nimmy, for your kind note. Best wishes for your own journey into Bhutan.