Day 20 (August 3): Poetry, Partings, and Shackleton’s Ship

The final day of Scriptoria dawned, cool and drizzly. I anticipated with much pleasure our morning poetry workshop session, as I always have—but with a bittersweet sense of sadness as well. This would be the last morning we would meet to laugh, share our words, receive Linda Nemec Foster’s insights, and experience the comfort of being with each other—poets but also simply human beings. We will miss each other, and that’ s one of the signs of a truly great workshop group.

After workshops, Vinita Hampton Wright charged us with seeking justice and truth-telling in this broken world, to stand unafraid and to write with conviction. Then, after a sack lunch, a panel discussion (the closing event of the week) stirred many reflections on what has caused each of our teachers to write, what books they have found helpful, and what writing practices they find life-giving. Gary Schmidt closed our time by commissioning us to keep writing with love and faith. And then, after ice cream, the workshop was done.

Done. Such a short, final word.

This event that we’d all looked forward to for months was over. Joan and Harry had already left. Most of us were leaving in the morning, early enough to catch flights out of Edinburgh. Some of us would never see each other again. 

And once again, Arielle saved the day. “Let’s go see Shackleton’s ship,” she said. “We need to hurry. It cls at 5 pm.”

So Noel, Arielle, and I put sadness aside and focused instead on one of the great Antarctic expeditions of the twentieth century: Shackleton’s and Byrd’s attempts to reach the South Pole. We wandered the ship for an hour, lost in another era. Then we browsed the museum, learning more of the challenges and deprivations the crew endured, reading their journal entries, studying photographs of the men who sailed. The ship had been built in Dundee, so it was natural that it should find its resting place there and well.

My hand is resting on a portion of the giant rudder that was used to steer the great ship.

Then to dinner, to packing, and to bed. Noel was catching an early bus to the airport, and Arielle and I would leave around 7 a.m. to drive to Edinburgh to catch our 11:15 flights. It was hard to get to sleep, knowing the alarm was set and ready to go off in a few hours.