langsam
There are Smaller Islands - Lossiemouth - June 2007
I walked along the harbour road then bought an ice cream with a flake, three postcards and a bouncing ball. The ball is green with a panda’s head cutting through half of it.
Then I walked further along the seaside toward a thin crossing bridge in order to walk on the sandy island sections, where there is a beach.
There are other, smaller islands too, with grass on top and squelchy sand, mostly water. I got my shoes and feet wet trying to reach them from the main body.
Others had been there before me. There were about three more sets of footprints in the little risings. It was nice to think of another person having had the same feeling when seeing the smaller islands - (my eyes are hungry, and want to be what they see, because it enthrals me to imagine myself there - the first feeling of desire).
So I returned to the main body. And I walked for 2 miles along the sand in-between the sea and the low cliff edge of the dunes, passing the carcass of a large fish, whose bare skull was torn from it’s body.
While walking this way there was a woman always about fifty yards ahead of me, she had long grey hair, out and free in the wind and wore a baggy white t-shirt and tighter three-quarter length black jeans, she carried with her a plastic bag and was combing through the driftwood before me. I imagined her life and what she thought about.
On the way back along the flat sand, a father & son, who I had passed earlier, had stopped and managed to move a large tyre up onto the cliff edge facing the sea. The boy, letting it go sent the tyre rolling off to the sea.
Then as I watched, I smiled and so did the man. It was fun - like grinning.
I walked along the harbour road then bought an ice cream with a flake, three postcards and a bouncing ball. The ball is green with a panda’s head cutting through half of it.
Then I walked further along the seaside toward a thin crossing bridge in order to walk on the sandy island sections, where there is a beach.
There are other, smaller islands too, with grass on top and squelchy sand, mostly water. I got my shoes and feet wet trying to reach them from the main body.
Others had been there before me. There were about three more sets of footprints in the little risings. It was nice to think of another person having had the same feeling when seeing the smaller islands - (my eyes are hungry, and want to be what they see, because it enthrals me to imagine myself there - the first feeling of desire).
So I returned to the main body. And I walked for 2 miles along the sand in-between the sea and the low cliff edge of the dunes, passing the carcass of a large fish, whose bare skull was torn from it’s body.
While walking this way there was a woman always about fifty yards ahead of me, she had long grey hair, out and free in the wind and wore a baggy white t-shirt and tighter three-quarter length black jeans, she carried with her a plastic bag and was combing through the driftwood before me. I imagined her life and what she thought about.
On the way back along the flat sand, a father & son, who I had passed earlier, had stopped and managed to move a large tyre up onto the cliff edge facing the sea. The boy, letting it go sent the tyre rolling off to the sea.
Then as I watched, I smiled and so did the man. It was fun - like grinning.