A Walk In My Shoes
good morning Mr Magpie
Through opened toed sandals the dampness of the early morning licks at my feet pulling me inward towards the reed fenced natural pond, nature’s housing estate for the Hairy Dragon Fly, Common Frog and Crested Newt.
Who would have thought a Quarry could be so beautiful?
Sandy gravel paths meander lazily round fields blanketed in stony soil or carpeted in Barley, smiling and waving gently in the morning breeze to passers-by, who respect their space, their growth, their majestic presence crowned by the early sun.
Who would have thought a Quarry could be so peaceful?
The Cuckoo calls and the Woodpecker raps deep in the dense wood camouflaged, heard, but not seen, unlike Magpies who strut around, their uniforms glimmering blues with green sticking out white breast plates and announcing their mischievous presence.
Who would have thought a Quarry could be so homely.
Hawthorns guard the way sharing scented flowers, but making the passer by aware of their prickly agitated side whose neighbour, the pink Wild Rose holds her cup shaped petals high bathed in early morning dew watching the Fox run home.
Who would have thought a Quarry could be so alive.
People scattered here and there, splashing colour onto the green and brown canvas looking over patchwork to the horizon, where the hue confides to the viewer that it will be a hot dry day and their doggy companions glad for an early morning stroll.
Who would have thought a Quarry could say so much.
Each day I walk and see the change of colour on the landscape, a Quarry once steeped in clay where chimneys used to point up high now Skylarks and hunting Red Kites fly around the wispy clouds throughout the day, inviting.
Who would have thought it would become the peoples Quarry.
Darren Rawnsley
©D Rawnsley May 2020