Near Nateby, Cumbria. 2010.
Light drops like honey from branch to branch
Elders balance their dishes of cream
While fledglings try small quavery leaps
Testing the buoyancy of the air.
Out walking in the sunshine. First sun I’ve seen. This poem carved in a hunk of rock beside the path. Hum. Are we not testing the buoyancy of the air, literally? Then later, the din of collective goose. I look up, eventually, to see them flying over head. Catch them in flight.
All is well as I settle to new circumstances. Life is much the same, although the details are changed.