We are presently enjoying a week in our niece/s cliff-top lodge in South Devon. It is a delight to look out over the sea and have time to reflect on what the eyes chance on. In the mid morning heat of a veritable heat wave, a few days ago, the gulls, all silent for once, seemed to be revelling in gliding silently past.
Close to a cliff-edge,
and we are treated
to a superbly silent fly-past.
Gull after gull after gull
floats, it would seem,
from thermal to thermal.
Then, as if at a way-marked fissure
in the cliff,
they drop out of our sight
to attend their business of the day.
For a few minutes,
their grace-filled peacefulness
(no squawking just now as they glide!)
is broken by the snarl
of a small plane
which obtrudes itself
into the cloudless sky.
And, thankfully,
we do not have to be anxious
that it might off-load ordnance.
We are truly blessed!
