Thursday, 28 May 2009

From the redwood forest, to the gulf stream waters..


I just spent a few days in the City of Bristol:


I came back feeling tired, foul tempered and sorely troubled and I went straight out and sat around in the fields while the glory of the afternoon turned into the greater glory of the early evening:

Saying Hail Mary's and snorting snuff, I sat hidden in the woods and peered out at sunlit rabbits and wood pigeons on the grass and, in the end, missed a pigeon at twenty five yards and gave - honestly - gave not much of a damn about it.

Then I left the orchard and was lost for a while in admiration of the grass with the sun setting low above.

Then I lay in a field and watched, half-dazzled, as a dozen rabbits scampered about and I missed two of them and cared not a jot - blowing my nose, snorting snuff and thinking about Woody Guthrie:
I've roamed and rambled and I've followed my footsteps,
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts,
And all around me a voice was sounding,
This land was made for you and me.

Then I did a bit of half-hearted and clumsy stalking and managed only to startle a couple of rabbits and gave - really and truly - not a hoot about it.

Then I packed up the rifle and just shot my camera at everything and all was fine as the sun went down.

The sun comes shining as I was strolling,
The wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling,
The fog was lifting a voice come chanting,
This land was made for you and me.


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