NaPoWriMo 11

Camargue


It’s a land of water and marsh,
North Uist with warmth.

And how warm it is, 80s in September.
After Arles we start to see black cattle

in the fields, the occasional white horse
near the ditches. The Parc Naturel

is a landscape of lakes, islands,
wooden bridges, walkways, dusty paths.

My first sight of a hoopoe here,
an injured bird in a huge cage,

scratching in the dirt. Short-toed eagle perched,
glossy ibis, pond heron and stork on an island

squabbled with egrets, a night heron,
and in the lagoon flocks of flamingo,

pale pink. One lifted wings and ran over the water
took off and flapped round in a circuit,

but the rest stayed still, sieving the water.
Dragonflies and mosquitos patrolled the air

and we were glad of some shade, a cool breeze,
before the road to the coast, Saintes Maries de la Mer.

By the next month, I know, because it happens,
flamingos and hoopoes will be back in Africa,

and I’ll be back in Scotland.

Colin Will
11/04/2013