Sounds Of Nature

Bank Holiday Silence


   My kind of world greets us on this bank holiday of May, on distant fen the call of pheasant rides the gentle breeze and travels the silence without a stutter, the repeating call fills the air with warnings as slow walking partridge glen the dark soil beside barley green like old men bent over rabbit nets.
   River bank sits quiet as Mallard wander the still water, no purpose in their trip that leaves gentle bow ripples to reach the reed edged banks so steep, no shouts of children spoil the air on this day of silence.
   The bead maker sits with thoughts of clay running through his mind, his bones that ache sit resting on seat of turf while the morning sun warms his back, to tend his clay the thoughts do cross with wide eyes watching ponds of still water he waits, will this morning freeze in time and never pass, will morning like come again to cheer his face and heart.