December Morning, Mousehole…
There was barely a breeze, nor was it cold,
Despite a fine drizzle which moistened the skin,
As daylight teased the darkness from Mounts Bay.
A chaotic flock of seabirds flew low and seemed to scold
On the wing, yet oystercatchers called above the din,
Before a cormorant skimmed the surf and a rock pipit skittered away…
There was a short, light shower of rain then an array
Of colour as clouds ghosted around the sunrise,
As I trod the sea-wall upon pebbles hurled overnight
By a ferocious tide and disingenuously scattered astray.
The gloom soon dissipated and the raucous cries
Of young gulls, screamed in their audacious flight…
There was silence in the harbour and the receding sea
Beneath the seventeen wooden entrance baulks drained
Away, as the sky turned amber, lit like a conflagration
By the tepid sun which hung, empowered over the quay.
Soon though the glorious hues were gone and it rained
Again, spoiling the beauty and dampening the elation…
Pete Ray
13th December 2023…
A morning walk along a sea-wall in Mousehole towards the old Penlee Lifeboat Station…
It was still quite dark when I set out, gulls made noise, a cormorant flew close to the ocean, a small group of oystercatchers fussed and a rock pipit fidgeted about me.
The rain was barely noticeable but as the sky lightened, despite some cloud, when I returned to the harbour a remarkable sunrise appeared…
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