Simon Wilson

Crossing the Bridge

One of our favourite walks has always been the waterside stroll that meanders into the town centre and allows us to stand on the bridge by the canal basin. From there it is possible to look down into the lives of others as the narrowboats pass beneath our feet. A bearded man knitting, as he steers with his foot, is a pleasure to see, and I feel no guilt about my curiosity.

As we watched, a cormorant flew low over the parapet and settled quietly, a dark bird on dark water. Swans cruised, ducks squabbled.The cormorant quietly criss-crossed the basin, submerged a few times and, once, struggled with a flapping fish which did not want to be eaten. Eventually it flew to the top of a lamp post, where it looked down on us and held out its wings to dry.

a flake of paint
caught in a spider's web
tugged by the wind
I feel the need
to change

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About the Author

Simon Wilson has been a poultry farmer, salesman, antique dealer, gardener, and instructor on a Care Farm. He now works in a coin shop and wishes he had tried harder at school.

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