25/5/06

A SNAPE 'MYTH'

Solid line of reed beds broken below by verdant river bank - stray scent of evergreens - an old couple move serenely through this toward the wooden sluice posts; the pair appear isolated in the vast landscape - whitening, bleached - behind me a Marsh Warbler calls - and the mysterious 'boof' boom of a Bittern is a mellow, subliminal horn seemingly emanating from the earth itself - a cornflower spider on my thigh - I sit where one stone meets another; gentle blue mouths and heliotropic distensions - the native merchant recovers his boat and winnows the hemp ropes - 25 people move in a landscape toward him and his controlled crossing point; when tomorrow comes the banks will once again be receiving the rains and no passage could be made so it is today they must move or not at all - the temperature brings solace, no action diluted - the heat plays at last on skin, the awesome eye of bronze is with us and the far rhythm of muddy poets and singers can be heard playing a work song - thoughts come fast, some grim, some happy, molten, bright - patches of daisies criss-cross the meadow grasses, smattered like pockets of light - then some shadow, some impish turn through the reed screen, as if seeing into another world - the breeze parts this, turns and burrs the flight path of Swifts and melancholy Shelduck - the merchant moves across the water and the passage begins -