Salaiola Festa in September was really lovely - a jewel of a poetry event in a remote corner of southern Tuscany. Even though I arrived late, the highlight for me was walking up into the steep woods outside the village with organiser Kevin Zweck and assorted Italian poets, to sit in a shady rocky ravine that seemed a million miles for the cares of the world. We just waited to see what words might come...and of course, the world was there anyway, in the rocks and the cascading water and even in the ivy strands hanging down into the ravine, waiting to be noticed or not noticed, needing nothing other than our quiet respect . Why is that so difficult, I wondered. 

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