Awe

A wee piece I wrote at Moniack Mhor a few weeks ago, perhaps it’s about love, you can decide.

Last Thursday the giant fish farm cage

was breached on the sand behind the castle.

We walked the tideline,

where the bladderwrack and kelp fronds

crunched under our feet.

You ran ahead, frisbee in mouth,

giddy, unrestrained,

fur flying around you.

That flamboyant tail of yours

helicoptering out of control with excitement.

You dug in the sand,

created tunnels to nowhere,

buried your treasure,

scooped it up with your brilliant white paws

and ran off again.

We stood together

on the rocks that curve around the end of the bay.

I saw Ailsa Craig, and Arran,

and gannets diving again

and again

and again,

and black cormorants bobbing

on the almost still surface

of the pink tinged sea.

You looked sandy.

You noticed them first,

ears twitched,

body line straightened,

tail became a tail,

your focus seaward.

I heard it then,

sucking intake of breath,

knew immediately,

body responded,

eyes focused

on finding the source of that sound.

dorsal fin, black, shiny, sleek in the deepening light.

Another, and another,

and then oh glory,

a slow

motion

breaching,

an entire,

beautiful,

dripping

shining body

erupting in an arc,

spewing water,

trailing water,

spraying water

as it surfaced, arched, left the sea

entered again,

pointed rostrum

cutting back into the water

as they flicked their massive tail

and powered off.

So fast they travelled,

were there 6 or 8,

and more further out,

away from the bay.

And we just stood watching,

mesmerised.

I was awed,

were you too Billy?

Were you amazed at the sight,

fascinated by these great creatures of the sea?

They disappeared south,

became hard to see as the gloaming set in,

and you picked up the frisbee again,

ran back to the beach,

lay down looking intently at me

and informed me that you

would like to play.