They must cross the barren earth
Where
once wheat and barley grew
A
land where nothing lives in the mud
And
an eerie silence hugs the land
Until
the chattering of machine gun fire
Breaks
the quietness of the morning
And
hails of bullets cut like a scythe
Until
like wheat and barley they fall
The deciduous trees still have their foliage on
With
autumn changing hues like a chameleon
From
yellow and gold and red and brown
Some
leaves have already began falling down
Then
the autumn gales come quite inevitable
Leaving
the once proud trees quite skeletal
Sadly,
now all the leaves have fallen down
Thus
adding to mother nature’s golden gown
Gather in the woodland lilies
Kissed
with natures gentle dew
Lay
them on the polished oak
And
bid your love a fond adieu
Thistledown, in idle flight
Drifts
upon the highland wind
Like
ancestral spirits
In the lochs reflection
Could
be glimpsed
The
gentle caress of clouds
Atop
the granite peaks
Before
they thickened
To
hide the Ben
Then
separated like parting friends
To
reveal the stark silhouette
Against
the blue
And
through these inconsistent clouds
The
sun would burst
Illuminating
the glen
And
its heathered hills
As
the clouds moved west
The
sunbeam moved
Like
a torches light
And
in the distance
The
hills appeared to move
As
if in a lantern show
Then
on the freshening wind
From
the west
Squally
showers blew in
And
the sun painted
A
rainbow across the sky
And
as quickly as it had arrived
The
showers blew away
And
the rainbow faded
Evaporating
to nothing
Then the sun began to set
Beyond the western isles
And turned the sky red
With streaks of pink and gold
Decorating the whole sky
And when the sun sank
Beyond
those misty isles
The
night wrapped the glen
In
its dark shroud
I stood on the wet sand
On
that cold autumn morning
In
the autumn of my years
With
the breeze off the sea
Chilling
my old bones
And
gazed out across the bay
To
the distant purple hills
Their
edges blurred and softened
By
the early morning mist
Their
indistinct silhouette
Reflected
on the moving water
The
tidal water pulling at the reflection
As
it moved inexorably to the open sea
And
seemingly carrying with it
All
of my unfulfilled hopes and dreams
With
a shiver I turned from the scene
And
made my way along the beach
My
eyes were drawn to the hillside
Where
the sparsely covered trees stand
With
the last of the leaves falling
Each
fluttering to the ground
Each
leaf’s fall symbolic
Like
the dates of a calendar
Being
peeled off one by one
Ticking
off the days of my life
As
I head towards my winter
Bird song abounds like a symphony
Scripted
by natures unseen composer
Conducted
by the baton of an invisible maestro
The
shrill woodwinds
Of
Blackbirds, Finches, Thrush and the Tit family
While
the Cuckoo sets the time
And
a Woodpecker beats a rhythm
The
breeze moves the leafy canopy
Like
vibrant cascading strings
Timber’s
creek and strain adding percussion
Rutting
Stags and distant plaintive cries
A
Fox cry and a Peacock’s call
Waterfowl
and cooing Doves
Underscored
by the beating wings of birds in flight
Insects
join the improvised symphony
Droning
Bees and Dragonfly
A
symbol crash as a Duck enters the water
A
waterfall adds the rolling kettle drum
Distant
thunder booms like a bass drum
And
Xylophonic drops of rain hit the lake
While
a Swan gracefully dances
Across
the water in perfect harmony
God
in heaven the impresario
Of
mother nature’s philharmonic company
