It is dark out and a little nippy too. I warm my toes by the fire, my feet resting comfortably on a log, I feel content and relaxed. I hear a distant cry coming from the black of night and I wonder what bird is making that sound. Unwittingly I hold my breath and listen, but the beast holds its beak. I relax again and throw another log on the fire.
There it is again, is it a whistle or a cry? Maybe it’s a night owl, or maybe not a bird at all, but a stoat or a whatyoumaycallit. The sounds seems nearby now, right next to me it seems. I prick my ears. Funny enough the sound has the same rhythm as my breath.
It turns out to be my own nose whistling Dixie. Untamed nostrils got my fancy tickled and my mind trying on the suit and attitude of sir David Attenborough.
Noisy nostrils and nothing more, I smile and I hear another noise I don’t know of, the night is full of it…and so am I.
No comments:
Post a Comment