Website of poet Elizabeth Rimmer


  • Bluebells at Inchmahome

    looking across the Lake of Menteith to Inchmahome

    We always try to go to Inchmahome in spring to see the bluebells. They can be up to three weeks behind us here at a much lower level, so it’s a guess when the best time is, but this year, I think we hit peak bluebell.

    a clump of native bluebells, very dark blue

    They are everywhere under the trees

    a pool of bluebells

    There has been a flood. The rising blue
    fills the hollow space between the trees,
    and washes over hillocks with a strange
    still completeness, as if the sea had learned
    to flow uphill.
    (from my poem Inundation, in Wherever We Live Now )

    I took the camera and tried a few experiments. It was a beautiful day, and we saw peacock and orange tip butterflies, swans and mallards, a great crested grebe (the first time for here), and best of all, the osprey.

    an osprey circling

    There were wrens, robins and a thrush singing, and we saw the first swallows as we came home. If you were to celebrate Beltane, that would have been the day to do it!

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