Comraich Chickens Part I
The red wattle of the elder statesman, jowl-like and pendulous,
wobbles and shudders as he stiffly stalks past.
Fluffy undergarments on show, tiny pink combs
perched just so, the young girls trip ahead.
Matrons, bosomy and usually bustling, sit and doze
dazed by the afternoon’s heat.
Yellow pollen pannier’d bees buzz busily
in and out of blooms
Birds twitter, an ant scurries across a stick
A weathered white whelk shell spirals out
From between the rocks on which I sit.
Comraich Chickens Part II
From within the acid yellow bright ragwort,
The frothy cream of meadow sweet,
Amongst the cool green swirl and furl of ferns
Comes a chattering chirp, a gentle chunter,
Drying grasses rustle and part.
The regal rooster and his hareem appear
From the shadows into the sun.
Full of purpose, bright eyes sharply peer
Seeking out the next seed, ant, or fly.
A bluetit watches as they pass by,
Perched high in the leaves of a lime,
Then he too about his business goes.
Have just entered a couple of short pieces to the Tarbert Book Festival ... eek! It's the first time I've entered a competition & I won't hear for a while so I'm not going to hold my breath!
There's a track near us that runs along the side of Loch Sween called 'Glean a Gealbhan' pronounced 'Gleneealavan'. It's easy walking, ducking under branches, and there's not often anyone else there so the dogs can roam free. Over the years I have walked along here dozens and dozens of times with different dogs. It's a great spot for gathering rowan berries. It's also, for some reason, where I write storis in my head! The plot for 'my novel' and it's follow up came to me when I was walking along here.
With the loch to one side of the path on the other is steeply sloping hillside, the trees grow tall and straight, towering over the path, bracket fungus and Old Mans Beard lichen adorn trunks and branches.
Waterfall of rocks, moss covered and topped with rushes and bilberry bushes. The path is edged with the swirl and curl of ferns, alongside Argyll’s yellow flags, wild iris, sharp yellow amongst the emerald greens.
Grasses have put on their firework display of seed heads, knee high & starred by umbellifer.
At the far end the path opens to a small clearing with access to the shore - for dogs anyway - although the way back up was a bit steeper than someone thought!
More again soon
Fabric hoarder & sewing stuff accumulator; Tea drinker & cake eater; Artist; & Carer; Teacher of things made with needles ...