Curlew

I went out onto this wetland today. I knew I would be passing it about lunchtime as it was on my way to a place I had to go to in the afternoon. So I took a sandwich and a drink and stopped to walk out across the bog. I sat quietly to eat my lunch and then sat for a bit longer just immersing myself in the watery beauty of the place. I heard a small voice inside me then asking for a word or a whisper in reply. Was it me or some part of me, or was it something else speaking through me?  I wasn’t sure.

Then I heard the sound of the curlew, a long bubbling liquid sound that starts slowly and then falls over itself like a swift-running stream. These birds are now rare. Although I didn’t see it I was lucky to hear the unmistakable call. Was it the response the voice asked for?  I ’m not sure. But it was enough. The wetland had spoken to me and I walked back across the boardwalk over the bog with the silvery sound in my heart.