Bankhead Moss Reserve.

Gunshot sky rumbles over the peatland. An island of bog surrounded by birch and scots pine, a remnant of what was once. Bits of Rannoch Moor here in miniature if you get down at its level and peer closely- sundew, bog asphodel, bog cotton. It survives, marooned, raised up around oceans of barley lapping on its shore. It is only a handful of miles as the crow flies to my house on the shore, where peat kinks away to loam and crumbles into the sea.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s