The White Cat, hunting.

Morning walking was at the airfield, all kingcups and marshland and golden grasses.

Evening walking was trip to visit the stone. And The white cat came too, to see if he could find it. We sat for a short while in a scoop of shelter. A raven flew close by.

π and The White Cat wandered dangerous places while Ivy turned her face to read the wind.

The The white Cat said that he would find the stone, for though he had not been with us when we placed it, he was a cat and the hill and all that was on it was known to him.

Here, said The White Cat.

On the way back we found squill, beautiful blue stars in the green. And a rock that was mapped with lichens.

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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4 Responses to The White Cat, hunting.

  1. Bernie Bell says:

    Cats………is cats.

  2. Els says:

    You all had a great walk ….. 😉

    (thanks for letting us go with you)

  3. Joan Wells says:

    I do love your blog – it’s lyrical descriptions of nature and the dog and the cats in in. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.

  4. Fiona says:

    Ooohh I love the stories of your walks. It’s like you can see a magical layer of life not noticeable to most others. Thank you for generously revealing it. It brightens my day, as do your books on my shelf : )

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