They didn’t move.
Tendrils of morning mist burned away in radiant white sunshine that bathed the surrounding forest with a glow of peaceful luminescence.
The deer, a splodge of dark in light, watched curiously from the tree line as the man stood on the back patio, mug of tea in hand, and mouth gaping in shocked wonder.
A faded memory.
Had they been here before?
Neither made a sound.
Just watched.
A sharp pain in his lung caused the man to cough.
The deer bowed it’s head.
It wouldn’t be long.
He had to go.
They had been here before.
So, this is another story inspired by my trip to the north of Scotland a few weeks ago. I dunno, maybe the further you travel into the wilds of this great country, the stranger your ideas become. Every morning I would get up first thing, with plenty on my mind, but staring into the forest that surrounded our lodge just cleared the head and calmed the soul. This tale, even though I’m still not entirely sure what it’s really about, comes from that quiet time.
Hope you enjoyed it. Until next time.
I'm on the Lancashire-Yorkshire border and was thinking I might go out wild camping tomorrow, and this just made up my mind :)
I live in Australia, down in the south west of Western Australia, which is awesome but kind of ... well, a bit not-so-mountainous. So when we went to New Zealand and I got to see Mt Cook — which in the scheme of mountains ain't no Everest ... I could have looked at that magnificent vista all day and all night. Truly breath-taking.
Mind you, the motion-operated taps in the bathroom also really bloody impressed me, so maybe I'm easily gob-smacked 😀.