The Travelling Damselfly
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Oban Train

7/3/2017

 
​Train clacking, scenery flashing
Mauve rhododendron, flame of yellow gorse
Green blur of birch
On and on
 
Sudden majesty of purple velvet mountain
Misty topped, stone ripped.
Shale grey loch, bubbling burns, tumbling, stoney-bottomed
Wave top pines, in gentle breeze
 
Stone railway cottages slate roofed.
Pine forests cuddled snug, then
Felled devastation, cut off in prime
A graveyard of discarded sticks
 
Marshy ground, steely sheets of lochs
Castle ruins, rocky cuttings draped in wire
Towering bens
Green coated massifs shedding tears down craggy crevices
 
White fleeced sheep balanced, precarious
Dry stone walls and open green spaces
Landscape changing, habitation creeping
Horn blowing, heralds arrival
 
Travellers stirring, all preparing
Doors opening, smell of the sea
Seaweed and ozone, shells and fish
Noise of gabbing people, departing.
 
Seaside town, tourists, locals
Souvenirs and genuine craft
Dogs a-walking, Labs and Gryffons, other too
Dragging their owners, being dragged, onwards.
 
Taxi finding, luggage dropping, town shopping
Gruffalo viewing, Ring of Bright Water buying,
Slogging it back to North Lighthouse pier.
Departure beckons, in the sea of islands by six pm. 

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    Author

    Isabella Ferguson is the pen name of a  professional historian living in the Queensland city of Townsville  in Australia. Like the Damselfly she loves to travel.

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