.
Once we looked to the horizon.
How can we see now?
≈
.
Encased
in the white wall
a pulse, a tracing
an inscription of breath.
≈
.
An acronym, or
a beginning
an interruption, or
an end?
≈
.
Wind-blown,
brush strokes
impasto smears
…………………………………………….– the sky
a feathered script
of light
≈
.
At the ghost pier
the ebb and flow
of memory
and forgetting
≈
.
Weather soaked
histories
etched – in wood
a redundancy of nails
.
.
.
≈
.
.
A polished pewter sky
dreams a wash of
copper-burnished kisses
≈
.
an invitation,
the pull towards
the edge
.
.
to sit and stare.
Listening
to the lichens
singing
≈
.
On the cliff top,
who is watching
the solitary watcher
≈
.
and at the bench
an outward gaze
to remember
and once again
look beyond
the edge of the horizon.
≈
Musings from a short walk in the village of Aberdour, Fife, on 28th December 2013.
Thanks to @emmaZbolland for “Pewter light” in response to an earlier tweet of the Ghost Pier.
Now playing: Translucence – John Foxx and Harold Budd.
I spent hours of my youth in Aberdour and now I hardly recognise it. But sometime in the summer of 1968 I laid on the grass at the tops of those cliffs as the seagulls rode the thermals up the cliff face…as they appeared over the edge I was briefly eye-to-eye with them. This experience and the mundane soundtrack of waves on stone and the seagull’s cries has stayed with me while the topography of the place has faded…
Thanks for the comment. I’m intrigued by how some reasonably mundane incidents, events and objects remain vividly etched in memory whilst others just seem to wash away leaving the faintest of residues. Love the image of the seagulls riding the thermals on the Aberdour cliffs and coming eye-to-eye. Can imagine why that memory would stay. I have walked around Aberdour many times before although probably associate it more with summer. This day was remarkably quiet, cold, a bit overcast and just good to stretch the legs after the Christmas festivities. All combined to noticing things/objects and seeing the place just a bit differently.
This feels beautifully melancholy – my favourite line is ‘the sky – a feathered script of light’ …lovely
Beautifully melancholy – I like that. Thank you.
I love the sea, but perhaps I like it best when it fades to green and silver, and the sky becomes cold and white. Copper sunsets, pewter skies, lichens and horizons – a chilly world of earth and wind. I love this – it will become a lovely memory as the air becomes warmer and the colors become more blatant.
Thanks Aubrey. A reminder that it was indeed a chilly world of earth, wind and sea that day. This weekend certainly a hint of warmer air and budding colour.