Day 586: Sleek

Fine little flitter

The magnitude of good things that have taken place since I last wrote is just steamrollerly... I've been getting more and more weighed down thinking of writing. Then I realised that none of that is the point. There's no need to record everything delicious that's happened, nor do I 'owe' a mention to all the ace people who've done their doing. 

Butterflies dancing along the canal path, speckled with light. I was doing vocal warm-ups. They were just busy flitting. Little white ones with orange-tipped wings, autumn-coloured ones, cabbage whites (if that's even a thing). 

Slicker than this

I'm back swimming daily. Oh, oh OH, that pond, that haven of beauty and cold kissing water, where I feel carried and caressed. Its beauty changes every day. The different ducks and their beady eyes, sometimes open during their one-legged sleep. Today, I came close to the cormorant. I loved watching him disappear and bob back up. I suspected he might rip up, Alien-style, through my very belly. He wouldn't though, would he. He's after fish, not my entrails. 

Buddleia butterflies

The barrier is newly up, so I swam to the very end today. By that time, the cormorant was out stretching his wings like Gormley's Newcastle sculpture. Close up, he's the colour of an oil slick - blues and browns glistening and shining - and sleek like you wouldn't believe. 

I've been well crowed these past few days too. There's an ungainly beauty about a crow, especially one on the ground. I always feel a little humbled looking at them. Powerful and vulnerable at the same time. Caw.