I met him on an evening with prose and poetry with John Arlott and Laurie Lee,Laurie signed his latest book for me "I can't stay long",such a lovely, humble man who truly loved the countryside and it's way of life,it was a pleasure to have met him.
Thank you so much for the upload. My Dad and his mate Martin are in the Woolpack at the 14 minute mark, my Dad (died 16 years ago) on the right and Martin (died over 25 years ago) on the left. Martin always had his little dog Jet under the bench. So wonderful to see, this has made me so happy ❤ Thank you
If you liked that do you know that audible have him reading As I Walked Out One Summer Morn. It’s a lovely rich characterful voice. The poet reading his own poetic words. Similar to this lovely film.
Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury is still my favourite book to read in Summer. But I am very fond of Laurie Lee. I just feel that the same world is their to be discovered when I read Dandelion wine. Where as Laurie Lee's seems to have vanished. It makes me mournful.
I lived in Stroud in the early 80s and would often walk to Slad and visit the Woolpack, where you could buy his books he had signed. I never bought one , one of my big regrets.
Dab chicks are Little Grebes apparently. Laurie Lee didn’t invent the name after all (according to the real Rosie of Cider With Rosie (who was actually his cousin) he was known locally as being prone to exaggeration, so I suppose it shouldn’t be a huge surprise). Also, blackbirds don’t migrate to Africa!
He's not saying that he made up the name dab chick, but that he made up the sighting of it that he described in the essay that won his prize. And as he has made clear , there was no real Rosie. Rosie was an amalgam of a number of girls of the valley and his childhood/youth.
Thank god this slow moving tribute exists
I met him on an evening with prose and poetry with John Arlott and Laurie Lee,Laurie signed his latest book for me "I can't stay long",such a lovely, humble man who truly loved the countryside and it's way of life,it was a pleasure to have met him.
Love this mans work , evocative of an innocent age , gone , never to return
This England. Worth holding on to.
Thank you so much for the upload. My Dad and his mate Martin are in the Woolpack at the 14 minute mark, my Dad (died 16 years ago) on the right and Martin (died over 25 years ago) on the left. Martin always had his little dog Jet under the bench. So wonderful to see, this has made me so happy ❤ Thank you
Hiya sis.
Hey neighbourino ❤
Fantastic to hear Laurie Lee,s unique voice and memories thanks for sharing.
If you liked that do you know that audible have him reading As I Walked Out One Summer Morn. It’s a lovely rich characterful voice. The poet reading his own poetic words. Similar to this lovely film.
Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury is still my favourite book to read in Summer. But I am very fond of Laurie Lee. I just feel that the same world is their to be discovered when I read Dandelion wine. Where as Laurie Lee's seems to have vanished. It makes me mournful.
Thank you for the upload
Absolutely wonderful.
Wonderful!
I've just finished reading the little book 'Down in the Valley: A Writer's Landscape', which put these words into print.
so beautiful
Excellent
Magical talent
A true romantic.
Slad has changed so much since this film was made.
Yes the middle classes moved in!!
It's not just Slad. Finding a local accent in the rural Cotswolds is now as difficult as spotting rare migrant 'brown jobs'.
I lived in Stroud in the early 80s and would often walk to Slad and visit the Woolpack, where you could buy his books he had signed. I never bought one , one of my big regrets.
Dab chicks are Little Grebes apparently. Laurie Lee didn’t invent the name after all (according to the real Rosie of Cider With Rosie (who was actually his cousin) he was known locally as being prone to exaggeration, so I suppose it shouldn’t be a huge surprise).
Also, blackbirds don’t migrate to Africa!
He's not saying that he made up the name dab chick, but that he made up the sighting of it that he described in the essay that won his prize. And as he has made clear , there was no real Rosie. Rosie was an amalgam of a number of girls of the valley and his childhood/youth.