A solitary whaup rises, disturbed as she pecked
at blibbans of green gaw, exposed after the
ebbing of the tide. A trio of eider paddle by.
She sat as a bright star among ten. Dressed
in the colours of the local XI. Black
as tar at the waterline.
Her green clinkered hull sandwiched between
white strips, shimmering in the ripples.
White wheelhouse standing proud, in the watery glass.
A look back from the clifftop, and through the glasses
her name is revealed. Pisces.
And the eiders paddled away, in search of their own.
Very evocative. Love it.
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