My new Pink Floyd t-shirt makes me smile. Pleased as punch. Worn with my orange check-print culottes with an elasticated high waist that I got in a Hexham charity shop for a pound.
Meeting Ali Smith with her wee Scottish brogue in an Exmouth Market bookshop on a rainy/humid night is lovely and amazing.
Working on my poems about Chaucer and Dian Fossey and Janet & John is good and frustrating.
Watching documentaries about Diaghilev and drinking Tyskie is necessary.
And information about the birds of the Loch of Kinnordy in autumn reads like a poem:
Lower water levels provide ideal feeding opportunities for migrating wading birds such as greenshanks, snipe and ruffs. Wintering populations of whooper swans, pink-footed and greylag geese return from their northern breeding grounds. Mixed flocks of tits, goldcrests and treecreepers can be seen along the reserve trails. Winter thrushes such as fieldfares and redwings can be seen feasting on rowan trees along the reserve trails.
So council tax and water bills and pay-as-you-go electricity are simply peripheral nonsense.
I have no ID at all right now. No identity. I won't need it in wetlands. Our birdswamp.
2 comments:
How anyone wearing a pink t-shirt with orange check print culottes can say they don't have an identity is beyond me. It may be a garish clashing identity, but it is definitely you.
Did Ali Smith carry her brogue in a bag, or trail it on a string behind her, or just wear it, hopping arounf the bookshop?
The t-shirt isn't pink - it's PINK FLOYD. You'd love it. (It won't fit you though). Wearing a dark t-shirt as the dark side of my moon, the culottes were for my bright side.
And as to brogues, Mr Cleverclogs, I direct you to this: http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_difference_between_a_Scottish_brogue_and_an_accent
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