These days the sun sets at around 5pm here on Widder Island, and after an intense day of writing, on novels and blog posts and assorted commentings around the interwebz, my brain was in sore need of fresh air.
The rain had temporarily stopped bucketing down so I bundled up and headed out for a brisk walk along the lane to the other side of Widder Lake, taking a brolly, just in case.
The end of the road is also a turn-around, so them’s wot are lost have the means to do an about-face without resorting to a 17-point turn. As I walked through the scraggly trees and leaf-denuded bushes between the road and the path nearer the water I could see a single car parked to one side of the turn-around. They seemed to be minding their own business so I minded mine and turned my attention to the assorted flocks of ducks, geese, and swans, swooping in from across the mountain and down onto the lake. (I assume these are late leaving for parts south or are really, really keen to head back north for the summer)
One flock, geese, I think, but the mist and the gloaming made it hard to see anything too clearly, caught my eye as they came over the ridge and started their descent … then with equal grace swirled around and rose back into the sky.
Around and around, they spiraled the length of the lake, widdershins-wise, dipping low, and then, almost without any effort at all, drifting back up again.
There were no predators around. The bald eagle clan who live on the other side of the lake were salmon fishing along the river a few kilometers away, and all the human farmers who considered the flocks ‘pests’ were snug inside their houses. This flock looked like they just wanted to soar for a while before settling down for the night.
As I watched them I wondered if they did it for the pure enjoyment of flight. Not in an anthropomorphized kind of a way, but within their own avian concepts of joy.
Eventually the rain started again. I popped my umbrella and began to wend my way home.
I did a quick scan of my surroundings, as one does when one is alone with the wild things, including a fleeting glance at the turn-around where, you might remember, a car, apparently minding its business had parked. Lo and behold, there, next to the car, shining through the darkening mist and rain I saw a perfectly naked peach-shaped bum.
I quickly redirected my fleeting glance back on the path in front of me and ambled home whilst ruminating on how the birds and the bum complimented each other in a delightfully irreverent, and dare I say, cheeky, way.
I suspect that whoever was in the car decided to take advantage of the dark and nip out for a bit of a pee. I hoped she didn’t see me. It’s nerve-wracking enough to risk one’s naked bum in the open, in the dark, to empty one’s bladder, but being observed doing so, is another matter entirely.
-oOo-
Coco the Community Cat dropped in this afternoon. She and Mirabeau oversaw my writerly endeavours with an appropriate amount of interest.
Mirabeau – “Do you think she suspects?”
Coco – “None of them suspect. Relax. All is at it should be.”
Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
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That was a lovely, well earned time out… I love watching birds do that. It certainly looks like they know about perfect joy to me!
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I think, that perhaps a great deal of their lives is spent in that place. 🙂
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You only have to watch them fly to believe birds enjoy the perfection of riding the wind…the same way as a gymnast or dancer enjoys their bodies working ‘right’ .
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The perfect simplicity of it was breathtaking. 🙂
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I can imagine 🙂
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On the bright side, at least you didn’t come across two people dogging! 😛
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A good thing, really. 😀
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Beautifully described birds – you could at least have given the bum similar treatment 🙂
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You’re right. I guess I gave it the bum’s rush, eh? 🙂
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🙂 🙂
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How funny. It’s amazing what you might come across while bird-watching. 🙂
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Indeed … the rare and endangered hovering peach-bum. 🙂
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Ha ha ha. 🙂
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Sure, why not. some flights are for practice, some for purpose, and some for pursuit of joy. Wheeeeeeeee!
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Absolutely … this one was pure afternoon flight delight. 🙂
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You’re writing a novel? 😀
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A couple actually. 😀 One is a WIP and the other is a re-write of Mortal Instinct … which was trad published in the worst possible way. When I got the rights back I decided to re-do it and self publish. It, and all my writing projects, got sidelined last year, and I’m picking everything up this year,
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The geese flying for joy reminded me of the conclusion of Jean Sibelius’ 5th symphony. Here’s a link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaKERN2UBaA. It was inspired by flights of swans over a lake. Okay, swans and geese are different, but not that much. The accompanying visuals are a mixed bag.
As for the bum, well these things happen. Much easier for men.
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That was wonderful. 😀 I’ve always had a soft spot for Sibelius ever since I heard Finlandia for the first time as a kid … blew my socks off. 🙂
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Listening to that, and visualizing the swans, I always get that “transcendent moment” feeling with accompanying weepiness. 😂
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I love watching the birds in flight. … the bum, well…!
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Heh, heh, heh … ‘bum’ happens! 😀
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