COMMUNITY
Mullman
I slept in our garden last night. Why? Well, one only has to look up at the night sky on a clear spring evening with very little light pollution to see why. Thousands of twinkling stars and the occasional shooting star shone down on me. I focused on my deep conscious breath until I drifted asleep wrapped up in my sleeping bag, several blankets, hat and scarf. I woke up for the toilet during the night and could hear the distant wheezy screech of a barn owl. I got back into bed and listened to it as I drifted back to sleep. I was awoken in the morning by an unfamiliar angry bird call but, as I awoke more into this land where dreams come true,
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at least three song thrushes I realised it was not a bird singing at different layers, but, instead, one of our but the nearest to me was wonderful shy and rarely singing covers. seen mammals. First, an accurate rendition I have not seen a stoat in of buzzards latest track, years so I was very happy to hear one coming from the followed by curlew and oystercatcher. Blackbird, wild overgrown garden next wren, robin, door. pheasant, It yikkered A sea eagle’s geese, more angrily for call fell upon song thrush some unseen and other and unheard my ears from artists that were reason for a few its distant nest hard to isolate minutes before wood where all singing at stopping. they are now once to make My attention incubating up this most was then beautiful song. drawn to the A hoodie dawn chorus landed on a fencepost right that was reaching an beside me and let out a loud impressive and deafening caw, which frightened me crescendo. Drumming and chipping snipe made up the half to death then flew away when I jumped. percussion, accompanied The crow seemed to signal by an electronic synth in the form of lapwing. I could hear the end of the dawn chorus
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| SPRING/SUMMER 2022
Mull & Iona Life issue 45.indd 14
20/04/2022 09:15:52
