On a wander around my favourite hilltop, I can easily marvel at the magic light produces when refracting on water… Light cobalt from a clear day all around. And if I peep towards the edge of the picture, this ocean blue surrounds the southern tip of the island. From this altitude, I stop and stand – enjoy a view on the same way a great skua or a raven need to survive… Breathtaking moment as my fingers comb the sky.
The other side is a treasure. This water-clogged world of mires is home to elusive merlins,
the smallest of the falcon family on this side of the Atlantic. On arrival, one whizzes below eye level. Such encounter feels like an earthly privilege and I wonder if this individual was not the one who caused so much havoc among a gang of starlings a few years earlier! This impromptu thought takes my heart back to a thrilling moment, as I once found a trio of starlings seeking refuge inside my car as a merlin performed a last minute L shape stunt before my eyes in order to avoid collision! (Yes, it was a boannie day and my car window on my side was wide open!) …I had come to my hill with a poem in mind. It since ended published in NorthWords Now under the title Horizons. It tastes like Proust’s madeleine in my heart.
Feathers aside, I descend the hill like I descend into night. This glorious blue I like to celebrate so much turns indigo on such light nights. A last look at the top from mid-range in late afternoon lets me believe I could be witnessing a wonderful celestial spectacle as evening clads my horizon, and maybe look for those magic light refractors that are our stars in a clear night.
I love night.
As a poet and a photographer. Last night proved a perfect one to record it through the lens, as I stood at my kitchen door that leads to the back garden. My field of view is impressive. S down to Compass & Sumburgh Head; SW to the township of Levenwick… West to Rompa, my nearest hill behind Hoswick, with the Old Manse and kirk in the foreground… And when night comes, water refracts lights like the sky! It feels serene. As the tide turns, the earth provides background music – as birds settle in nearby fields, this homeworld symphony can only enchant each moment.
Blue remained light, as we began to descend into dusk and then night. Each moment captured on my memory card felt a treasure as well as a precious time capsule… Further, further down into night and to the very first light refractor! My eyes searched through the universe. Cobalt turns eventually indigo, as clock hands tick and waltz on the wall…
There, indigo night. In the distance, across the sea, my eyes are drawn to the neighbouring township…. Life refracted inside the bay, and around us through secluded man-built windows. I elevated my eyes to the sky to discover Arcturus in my Western sky. Draco and Lyra soon followed, with Ursa Major in one corner of the sky. One by one, familiar constellations danced in my northern hemisphere. I peeped at Perseus in the hope to catch its summer bounty of meteors! …Just like sparks from a flint of a gigantic Zippo lighter! That takes me back to another piece entitled The Whole of The Sky, written in 2009 and published last year at the following Blog entry: night, 14 August 2010.