Thursday, 3 April 2014

Lunch Break

Beneath the rising hum of passing plane, hazy clouds drift, blotting the perfect sky.
Bees and insects buzz busily around the yellow fluffy buds on the willow tree and from the branches chiffchaff calls and pigeon coos.
A murmer in the rushes, soft breeze brushes skin and moves the waters of the lake. A ripple; fish rising. 

Eyes close. Sun warms. Sounds lull. 
Distant rooks, and further, far away sheep. Strains of robin song to the right, and blackbird to the left. And Chiffchaff, Chiffchaff, Chiffchaff.
Watch ticks. Insects dance over dark waters whilst butterflies bask, wings painted with unseeing eyes. Thoughts drift. 

A shiver in the breeze, a pheasant calls. 
The chaffinch now, sings for rain. And still above it all is the rising hum of passing plane.







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