Read Online The Bird Woman by Kerry Hardie - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kerry Hardie
Ads: Link
different too, fine-weather sounds—the
cack, cack
of a leisurely gull, the fizzle and pop of seaweed drying, the drone of a bee in the lazy air. Strangest of all was Slieve-more,
no longer a black looming mountain half lost in the shifting cloud, but a big bony hill against sky that was far too blue.
I took my shoes off and made for the water. The tide was out; little low waves ran over my feet, and off to the left three
cormorants sat on a rock and held their wings out to dry in the sunny air. A big curlew was strolling about at the sea’s edge,
but Dandybounced and danced along beside me, ignoring the curlew, the curlew ignoring him, both of them too much at ease for the effort
of chase and flight.
Ease. And I in my turmoil.
I glanced back. Liam was squatting down, staring at something—a crab or a bit of old wood, I couldn’t see. Liam was always
stopping and looking; he’d get excited at things no one else would bother their heads with—a heap of old stones or a rope
of brown seaweed laid out on the sand. It was all new to me, this standing and looking.
The devil and idle hands,
that would have been the way I was reared. My family went to Portrush for a week every summer when I was young, but then
Daddy died and she said that was that, there was no more money for holidays and going away. She took us on day trips to Donegal
instead, but they were all action: pulling and squirming, strictly no dawdling, the freezing plunge, the scrape of the towel,
wet sand in your knickers and socks. I didn’t know grown-ups ever just stood around and gawped at things; I didn’t know they
were
allowed.
Not that I thought myself grown up, but Liam was four years older than me, and that made him nearly ancient beside my twenty-three.
But now I’d discovered I liked doing this looking; sometimes I’d find myself getting near as excited as Liam did himself.
Sometimes. Not that day. Liam called out to me, but I didn’t stop or let on that I’d heard him; I was too busy putting space
between us. I glanced back once, but by then I was round the headland and Liam had dropped out of sight and sound.
It was different round there, rougher and stonier, with long piers of rock that marched out into the sea. The sun still beat
down steadily, but it was much more exposed and the water was ruffled with hundreds of tiny blue ripples all running in fast
from the west. Oyster catchers picked around among the weed, ringed plovers scuttled in the stones, winds pulled at the pools
so theyshivered and shone, and there wasn’t a sinner in sight. My feet were soft from city shoes, so I hopped from rock to rock,
watching my step and thinking of yesterday and the seal.
And today it was Liam and leaving here that were twisting me over and under like string in a cat’s cradle. The confusion of
it all. One minute I couldn’t stand the sight of him, and the next I wanted to be here with him forever, standing about and
looking at things, never far from his side. This new confusion was nearly worse than the seal confusion, and the two falling
so close together was a whole lot worse than either on its own. Try as I might, I couldn’t seem to get anything sorted or
straight.
Bird sounds, wind sounds, the lapping of water. It was all so quiet and far away it felt as though there was no one left on
the face of the earth but me. But for all the absence of people, I wasn’t alone. The cracks in the rocks beside me were crammed
with whelks and winkles; further down they were spiky with blue-black mussels and clogged with drying seaweed that shifted
before my eyes. The more I looked, the more I couldn’t stop looking. There were limpets everywhere, and between the limpets,
barnacles, and crawling over them glistening flies as big as the nail on my thumb. Huge blue-grey sea slaters scuttled the
rocks, sand fleas hopped on my feet, and the seaweed laid down by the tide in heaps was heaving with questing
cack, cack
of a leisurely gull, the fizzle and pop of seaweed drying, the drone of a bee in the lazy air. Strangest of all was Slieve-more,
no longer a black looming mountain half lost in the shifting cloud, but a big bony hill against sky that was far too blue.
I took my shoes off and made for the water. The tide was out; little low waves ran over my feet, and off to the left three
cormorants sat on a rock and held their wings out to dry in the sunny air. A big curlew was strolling about at the sea’s edge,
but Dandybounced and danced along beside me, ignoring the curlew, the curlew ignoring him, both of them too much at ease for the effort
of chase and flight.
Ease. And I in my turmoil.
I glanced back. Liam was squatting down, staring at something—a crab or a bit of old wood, I couldn’t see. Liam was always
stopping and looking; he’d get excited at things no one else would bother their heads with—a heap of old stones or a rope
of brown seaweed laid out on the sand. It was all new to me, this standing and looking.
The devil and idle hands,
that would have been the way I was reared. My family went to Portrush for a week every summer when I was young, but then
Daddy died and she said that was that, there was no more money for holidays and going away. She took us on day trips to Donegal
instead, but they were all action: pulling and squirming, strictly no dawdling, the freezing plunge, the scrape of the towel,
wet sand in your knickers and socks. I didn’t know grown-ups ever just stood around and gawped at things; I didn’t know they
were
allowed.
Not that I thought myself grown up, but Liam was four years older than me, and that made him nearly ancient beside my twenty-three.
But now I’d discovered I liked doing this looking; sometimes I’d find myself getting near as excited as Liam did himself.
Sometimes. Not that day. Liam called out to me, but I didn’t stop or let on that I’d heard him; I was too busy putting space
between us. I glanced back once, but by then I was round the headland and Liam had dropped out of sight and sound.
It was different round there, rougher and stonier, with long piers of rock that marched out into the sea. The sun still beat
down steadily, but it was much more exposed and the water was ruffled with hundreds of tiny blue ripples all running in fast
from the west. Oyster catchers picked around among the weed, ringed plovers scuttled in the stones, winds pulled at the pools
so theyshivered and shone, and there wasn’t a sinner in sight. My feet were soft from city shoes, so I hopped from rock to rock,
watching my step and thinking of yesterday and the seal.
And today it was Liam and leaving here that were twisting me over and under like string in a cat’s cradle. The confusion of
it all. One minute I couldn’t stand the sight of him, and the next I wanted to be here with him forever, standing about and
looking at things, never far from his side. This new confusion was nearly worse than the seal confusion, and the two falling
so close together was a whole lot worse than either on its own. Try as I might, I couldn’t seem to get anything sorted or
straight.
Bird sounds, wind sounds, the lapping of water. It was all so quiet and far away it felt as though there was no one left on
the face of the earth but me. But for all the absence of people, I wasn’t alone. The cracks in the rocks beside me were crammed
with whelks and winkles; further down they were spiky with blue-black mussels and clogged with drying seaweed that shifted
before my eyes. The more I looked, the more I couldn’t stop looking. There were limpets everywhere, and between the limpets,
barnacles, and crawling over them glistening flies as big as the nail on my thumb. Huge blue-grey sea slaters scuttled the
rocks, sand fleas hopped on my feet, and the seaweed laid down by the tide in heaps was heaving with questing
Similar Books
