Scout Scar

Chance of a lovely thoughtful walk on Scout Scar, looking down the Kent estuary to Morecambe Bay. The rain held off, just about. It was absolutely smothered in wild thyme.

Son of Man - John Glenday

after Magritte: Le Fils de L'homme

There are times
when in the most unhindered light
we can discern shadows

cast by something less
than visible. Imprints or absences
our bodies, somehow, lie beyond.

There are times when history
flows through us
like a trembling music,

as though, invested
with the sea, we had ourselves
become an instrument.

And there are times
when all our weaknesses hang
ripening between us

and ourselves. Those ancient,
unemcompassed frailties we could not look
beyond, nor hide behind.