Garland Stone By Rosie Walker-Brown

Skomer is starting to feel Autumnal with migrants passing through - recent highlights include spotted flycatchers, willow warblers and a blue tit. This is a poem written by Rosie who spent a few months on Skomer last year carrying out a research project looking into the fledgling weights of Manx Shearwater chicks. She has recently returned to help settle in Sarah who will be repeating the project for her undergraduate dissertation. The poem captures the island well at this time of year.
Chris

Garland Stone

I sit beneath a cloudless sky,

And watch the natural world go by,

Across the sea a path of gold,

As the evening sun begins to fold.

Beneath me waves thrash on the rocks,

And ravens dance above in flocks,

A dozen fearless rabbits graze,

And the browning bracken gently sways.

A chough calls from overhead,

Its beak and legs distinctive red,

Below an oystercatcher cries,

And a soaring gannet turns and dives.

Ramsey’s bathed in evening light,

The white of Grassholm just in sight,

Tankers shelter close to shore,

I wonder where they’re heading for.

Sitting in this timeless place,

The bracing wind fresh on my face,

I cannot help but feel at ease,

A scene that never fails to please.

No two days are just the same,

But even in the driving rain,

An ideal place to clear the mind,

I wonder next time what I’ll find...

Rosie Walker-Brown