Chant du monde boréal
Sandshifter, 60N.
Where it all makes sense.



Through Chronicles from Arcania, I shall attempt to share walks with you, this poetics from 60N, where I feel at one with our Earth, my sense of place so maritime.

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

screaming skies

all in good time

Standing in the midst of the island, bare and battered by autumn skies, Atlantic rain and double-bladed rainbows, I look at the grandeur of Arcania in-between two disproportionate seasons; that ephemeral summer tail-gated by the harshness of winter.

What if, in between, autumn lingered in summer blue? Wait for your turn on the side of the track, where you can find a passing place and see if that screaming sky can reveal the remains of a better blue... Only days ago, it felt that way. A generous sun dazzled our eyes , as we explored the Eastern shore, where otters and starlings find pleasure by the kelp. One would never pray for better afternoon. Luminous Arcania, unafraid of the faintest breeze, offered perfect reflections of herself in each firth, burn and bays. 

By the end of the afternoon, a generous star lit the small fishing harbour, where men gathered to share the load of their labour. It is the time of year to keep boats off water and mend their hulls... Dancing spirit in a honey sky in the name of the painter's dream.

Many a folk call such autumn gift,  Indian summer

But then again, I always listen to the wind. And when it wakes, this clement sky begins to scream and unleash gusts, as clouds empty themselves in a shameless and unreserved manner. It is a time when we look up to this two-faced October. Double-bladed rainbows arch on a semi-water clogged land, void of colours, since heather bells, cotton grass and bog asphodel burnt through cold snaps.  A SW gale has given way to a NW fresh breeze.

 And  in-between two squalid showers, wild geese land in lush fields; golden plovers perform airborne ballets as stunning as those by starlings above the marsh... Lapwings and gulls chase a juvenile Pallid Harrier around meadows; swans feed in the shallowness of a maritime loch alongside a plethora of ducks - wildfowl galore! ...Hello, Earth - hello, Earth! 

And I wonder how far away winter can be. The air turned cold within days. Hail and thunder slashed a warm dream... I sometimes stop at passing places, watch and listen for earth and sky. And when my world begins to speak, I feel the spirit of hairst, autumn, as the light changes all the time. Wood and coal, bagged, line up to the side of the hearth. Daylight shrinks like nylon to the flame. Provisions have been made for the lean months ahead. Most of our summer visitors turned into poltergeists and gave way to their visiting winter counterparts, as Redwings notably invested our hillsides in place of skylarks... Many exotic avian wonders also fall from a sky charged with howling powers, and find themselves stranded on this part of the world. That juvenile Pallid Harrier is a fine example! Men come to find them from afar... Amazing migration.

Until the end of the month, light still prevails over darkness. Fine respite...Until I find prints in the snow.

selected haiku string

October -
wreath of gold leaves on hedgehog's trail,
essence of hairst.
#haiku fae 60N

Coeur de la terre -
triads of starlings' strident tales
in-between calls of flushed redwings.
#haiku fae 60N

Tucked in -
go through a gale,
feathers against stones.
#haiku fae 60N

Song of the moment:

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