moses & big fish
Moses is a little long-haired kitten; his fur is champagne in colour and as soft as the early buds of the willow. He would often sit beside the pond and watch Big Fish basking in the sun. Moses and I would sit and listen to a cacophony of bird song and watch as they floated the breeze on high, but all of a sudden Moses spotted a mouse under the hedge looking for morsels of fish food in the leaf litter. The mouse glanced up and looking across to the pond froze in fixity of terror as he detected Moses’ presence. At that moment Moses crouched ready to pounce, but something else caught his attention, it was a blur of movement in the water below, it was Big Fish who turned and thrashed his tail beating up splinters of water and showering Moses’ warm soft fur, the noise hurting the fine drums of his ears.
With the wavelets now lapping the stones nearby, Moses’ ears flattened, his body increased in size and formed a loop, and with a spitting hiss barred all his teeth, leaving the little mouse time to escape the caverns of his mouth.
As the sun beat down from the deep blue sky above Moses’ strength was sapped. Moses would stare at the water flies dancing their sun dance over the ripples, he would now turned his gaze to the Polly wiggles in the shallows of the pond below, the song of the birds and the stir of fluttering wings was just too much for little Moses and he would soon begin to hum his little tune, and as I worked in the garden Moses lazed all afternoon. Was little Moses dreaming of Big Fish or was it the Polly wiggles… will we ever know?
I’d like to take this opportunity to feature a poem written by my dear friend & local poet, Brian Salkeld:
‘I’m sitting in the garden, breathing in fresh air, with Moses who’s a kitten with champagne coloured fur.
He would often sit beside me, his idea of fun, watching big fish in the pond, while basking in the sun.
A cacophony of bird song can be heard on high; Moses hears it too, whilst looking at the sky.
I then heard a gentle rustle, from beneath the tree; it was a little field mouse, looking up at me.
Foraging in the leaves, the mouse came into view, stood frozen to the spot, he had spotted Moses too.
Moses ready to pounce, something caught his eye, deep within the pond, was big fish swimming by.
Big fish thrashed his tail, it happened in a blur; splinters of water rose up, soaking Moses’ fur.
With the wavelets lapping stones, and rolling from a rock, Moses stood there rigid, paralysed with shock.
The mouse saw it unfolding, a chance to run away, he had avoided Moses’ mouth, to live another day.
Moses now was tired, the day was calm and slow, as he watched the Polly wiggles, in the pond below.’
