Brief Encounters

The farm tracks are wet from last night’s rain

Fallen leaves wearing their raindrop glossy coats

It’s gloomy – mild for the time of year

The clouds push in, and I see Autumn shades smudging into the grey landscape

Aside from an occasional whirr and chat from the hedgerow sparrows

And the high distant silhouette of a gull and a pigeon, the birds are absent

I pass two people talking, one out walking his dog

And I wander on towards work

Leaving the tracks I turn onto the main road, and as always, the mood shifts

From peace and quiet, to fast moving traffic, and noise

I don’t usually care for this stretch of the walk

But today I’m reminded possibilities can appear anywhere

There’s a kestrel sitting on top of the nearest lamppost

I approach – we size each other up, and the bird takes flight

Settling on the next lamp post

The game is afoot – and we continue

I advance slowly, then the bird takes flight,

Gliding across the road, then back to settle, one stop further down the line

Our walk towards my work continues, until after several hellos and goodbyes

The bird spots something and is away, over the hedge and across the field

Arriving at work, I turn off the main road and as always, the mood shifts

From fast moving traffic, and noise, to something calmer, more focused

I don’t usually care for that previous stretch of the walk

But today I’m reminded possibilities can appear anywhere

Strangely - or maybe not - I’ve traced this short walk six times recently, starting with the one that sparked the above poem. On four of those six occasions, the kestrel and I have encountered one another. The bird on the lamp post, me down below.