Picasso
23rd November
In the darkness – a polecat?
Later, on the beach by dawn, two raven falling from the cliff top woods, gliding off their dark, twiggy silhouettes, away into the chill blue sea mist grey, merging, dissolving, save their gentle, invisible deep croak.
Polecat on a cliff, scrambling along strata, hanging over the murky misty beach below.
A dunnock close among brambles. Its gentle twhewheeet whistle, and delicate grey plumage.
The bell on the buoy, still, ever present, clanging from time to time throughout the day and through the darkness of all night, of my sleep.
And those chough, two who roost in the cliff’s curve; their call so cheery, with memories so soft and calm; indistinct – a state of mind. They gather at day’s end on burnished strata.
Surprising suddenness of chill as dense fog draped at dusk over the cliff edges, and a vast impenetrable wall moved up the beach, encroaching silently from either side; an atmosphere of deep chill from unpredicted nowhere. Beauty in this twilight change. Afterglow of pink caught hanging between cold blue-gray, closing in with drapes of fog, falling.