Dear reader,
The Atlantic puffin species that ranks among everyone's favourite seabirds includes an endearing story. How parents birds starve their single nearly grown chicks until hunger motivates the youngsters to leave the security of the clifftop burrows, and and in the dark of the night, leap to the pounding sea.
The puffin in folklore was able to predict stormy weather. The would fly to landwards two or three days in advance of a storm and fishermen observing them gather on the clifftops would pull their boats in until the tempest passed. They were regarded as a reliable guide to the location of fish shoals.
Puffins are one of the few birds that have the ability to hold several small fish in their bills at a time. Their raspy tongues and spiny palates allow them to firmly grasp 10 to 12 fish during one foraging trip.
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From Dorothy Wordsworth 1802 December 19th in Westmorland
......as mild a day as ever I remember. We all set out to walk ......There were flowers of various kinds - the top most bell of a foxglove, geraniums, daisies, a buttercup in the water....small yellow flowers (I do not know their name) in the turf, a large bunch of strawberry blossoms.
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Invocation to Iona
“Iona, sacred island, mother,
I honour you,
who cradle the bones
of Scottish kings,
Who birthed coloured gemstones
to enchant bleached beaches,
who shelter puffins on your rocks.
I wrap myself in your history,
and knot the garment with
machair rope-grass.
In the Port of Coracle
your southern bay,
I hear the wind-blown cormorants cry
and draw a breath.
I see Columba’s footsteps
in the sand, and weep.
Tears overflow,
I am spirit-engulfed.
“I ask you, Iona,
is this then, or now,
what is, or what has been?
Does the rolling salt sea-mist
cover the uncounted time between?”
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With best wishes, Patricia
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