Mine, said The White Cat

Up the hill, early morning, chasing the thread of the words in a story. I took two stones. One small, one bigger and the first I placed in a nook in the rock where I hoped it would not be found.

But The White Cat found it, while I was writing, decided it was his precious, carried it around in his mouth like  a dog with a ball.

 

When time came to move on I rescued and returned it.

We walked off, but not before the three posed for the camera.

Coming down off the hill I found the strangest thing, where the lichen rock was taken. A small tomb, with a clean skull. I returned it and am thinking how to answer this question. But first I need to discover who this fine creature was.

Ravens flew around, close, so close, and on the hill someone rested, with a full crop. Peregrine or kestrel? Couldn’t decide.

On across to where the ponies have hollowed a place in the shelter and here I left the other stone, where the hawthorne grows, and ivy tangles the boulders.

For a while I wrote more then walked back over the top of the hill, past the stones mapped by the cartography of lichens and moss.

Home now. Time to gather up and stitch in the threaded pieces of story….

About Jackie

I am an artist and writer. I live in a small house by the sea in Wales where I write, paint, walk and watch and dream of bears and whales. I love to read, have a wish for wings and prefer the company of animals to that of humans, though at times I can be quite friendly. I am learning how to work with wood engraving tools and hoping to show that you can teach an old dog new tricks.

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7 Responses to Mine, said The White Cat

  1. Andy says:

    Did you look further inside the rabbit tomb ? It might bear further inspection…………might have been left by a ginger Cat

  2. Andy says:

    the Habit of a rabbit or the lair of a hare ? Minds boggling….

  3. WOL says:

    I begin to think that on your writing expeditions, you don’t so much write, as take dictation from the world. When the world has gathered its thoughts, it murmurs them to you and you write them down. How wise of you to be in the right place at the right time to hear them.

  4. I wonder if it was left as a thank you gift for the stone. I can think of a bone collector who might leave such a gift.

  5. Bernie Bell says:

    The White Cat is The Business.

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