Friday, May 30, 2008

addendum

I've had my knuckles rapped (in the nicest possible way) for Leaving Things Out.

.....There was indeed a sky lark. We hear it first and crane our necks to spy it. The little thing, wings aflutter, soars out of the gloaming, a dark speck against a felty grey sky. Singing, singing its little bird-heart out, a warbling, liquid song above a damp hillside. The only other sounds were the mundane tramp of our boots and the steady munch of grazing sheep.

I must mention the cuckoo too - listen - it's somewhere over there, down in the valley. It's the first we have heard this year and heads are cocked the better to catch the distinctive notes. We hear a sound, full and unmistakable, with just enough time between 'cuckoos' for us to wonder if we were indeed, mistaken. But no, there it is again. And again. Now the call becomes fainter as the unseen bird flies away from us into the distance. Finally we can no longer hear it and we resume our trudge up the stony path.

I suppose there will be trouble if I don't mention the bluebells amongst the lush grass of Gittinshay Wood .... and the mist through the trees and the sweet smell of rain in springtime. The soft sappy green of the conifers' new growth was light and bright and over an inch long already.

We didn't know that the wood was Gittinshay Wood of course, because we were lost. Standing in a clearing, disorientated, with maps turned this way and that, imagining paths and tracks we were found by a dog that appeared through the trees. Hardly the baying spectral hound you'd expect to find in a fog-girt forest, more a small and affectionate cross-breed. I'd like to tell you that the little thing guided us to our destination but in fact we sent 2 boys ahead and trusting to luck stumbled after them.

Is that it? I'm sure SBS will tell me if I have forgotten anything else.

10 comments:

Elizabethd said...

Your writing gives a perfect picture of your walk...sounds, sights, smells...
Lovely.

Un Peu Loufoque said...

Oh you do write well but I think as long as you mention sheep SBS will be happy! We have a cuckoo here who calls form all the trees around the house almost constantly, he is even teh first now to herald the dawn and the novelty is wearing thin!

Blossomcottage said...

Such a lovely walk and what you have not mentioned we can surely imagine, I can smell the perfume in the air, thank you.
Blossom

Frances said...

I so love what you have written here and in those other recent posts.

I cannot tell you what pleasure it gives to me in this city of concrete, steel, glass, and falling destructive/constructive cranes to have this open view on the open space.

xo

snailbeachshepherdess said...

absolutely howling with giggles here.....
that photo of the ponies is wonderful...on a dry summer evening it would never have been as good ...well ...here's to our next 'adventure'!

Sally Townsend said...

My perfect sort of walk, did you have a rucksack too filled with goodies ? whats happened to that lovely pic of you ?

Claire said...

Just catching up with your last few posts i.e. pheasants, kites, stiper stones and now this lovely sensory walk. The sound of the rain falling through the leaves just wonderful until you feel it trickling down your neck.

Pipany said...

Great writing Mountainear and great to catch up on your other posts too though I think I must be getting tired as I thought the ponies were photographs!!! xx

LITTLE BROWN DOG said...

Beautiful, mountainear. Just beautiful.

Anil P said...

I can identify with how you must feel, seeking to see the bird you can only hear, and I suppose it must make the experience that much more nicer :)

The last month or so I've spent listening to the Cuckoo (also called the Koel locally), and as the crows got after it the call moved further away.

A stirring sound indeed.

Your writing evoked the experience well.