THE WORM DANCE

Note to self – Never go looking for Rainbow’s End on a day with no rainbows.

Spring? I don’t think so. Sure, it didn’t rain for once, the sun came out, the temp went up, but the wind from the south-west got stronger by the minute on my first visit to the cliffs for weeks, maybe months.

Normally there’s hundreds of tourists up here. Not yesterday. Me, a family of Germans, a ‘bury’ – I had to look up that collective noun – of rabbits, and a good few worm dancing seagulls.

At least the sea knows it’s the sky’s mirror and the winds only friend. The sea sometimes helps with lost creativity. All I could hear was nature’s sounds. I wish I’d taken my stereo recorder with me.

The harbour looked like it couldn’t bothered with much. Ships loading lorries yet hardly any regular passengers as far as I could tell – coronavirus?

It was the gulls stomping up and down doing their ‘worm dance’ in the wind on the eerie cliffs that made me think of an old piece of sound art I’d made, ‘The March of the Dead’. I hope you enjoy, although ‘enjoy’ doesn’t feel like the right word.

As ever, if any poets out there are interested in having your poems turned into songs then click here to check it out: POETRY TO SONG

If you are looking for all my other music then you’ll find it to download on BANDCAMP or you can stream and/or make a playlist of it on SPOTIFY

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