Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Owl hunting

Dusk walking, owl hunting and the light fades from the day turning all gray, except for the golden gorse. The air is scented with honeysuckle, gorse, bluebell and twilight.
Five cats walk in ginger chain up the darkening green lane to the high hill top and wings flutter and flush in the twisted thorn bushes.
Across the fields a blackbird sings, is answered and sings again. From the moorland the cuckoo calls its twilight song.
Aerymice paint black flashes against the dark gray cloud filled sky. The pattern of their flight looks like music.
Only the birds sing. All else is silence, waiting for darkness.


7 comments:

PurestGreen said...

Oh how dreamy. Owls and musicians and gothic spires. Sigh.

Jennifer Rose said...

very dreamlike :D

andrea the pomegranates said...

so poetic, both the words and teh drawing...

moreidlethoughts said...

Oh! I love the heart-faced barn owls! I've posted a photo on my blog and am trying to draw a cartoon of one for a print. Sadly, I don't come even close to yours!

Carrie said...

A wonderful passage of writing, this really should be in its own book of poety and prose by you Jackie!
So many of the Gingers' evocative observations fill the senses and the spirit. Good writing lets you feel, hear and smell, to be drawn into the wanderings and be immersed in the place...
I love your writing, thankyou for sharing it!
Carrie...

Rachel said...

Aerymice... what a lovely word! Much nicer than flittermouse.

The Curious Cat said...

Love this picture - splendid!