Sunday, 26 August 2012


Baby listens to the music of Dog running; plink plink plink; through the dry stalks in the cut field. I don’t know what she makes of this world, but she clearly attends to it. Solemn mouth imitates the sound of the wind in the trees; studious hand opens to gauge the movement of the air. Big eyes reflect the sky. Words of purposeful nonsense are addressed to us. 
‘Uh huh.’
I whistle Dog from her roaming: this is funny, belly laugh funny. A whistle conjures a dog. A happy dog at that. Dog’s tail wags in a circular motion, seems to propel her forwards. I listen to the music of the dry stalks, to the operatic snort of granddaughter. 


  1. You've described this little scene so beautifully. Isn't is glorious to view the world through the eyes of a grandchild?

  2. Thank you :-) It is indeed a scene of love and joy- Dog and Baby both have a fine view of the world!


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