Young Gannet Lost
Like a pre-school child wearing adult flippers,
The fledgling waddled and toddled
Across the stone-strewn shale
Of the Camel estuary,
Until smoothed, grey slices of rock
Forced the sea-bird to flail,
Its huge webbed feet walking amok,
Slipping, tripping and barely gripping…
Like a serpent, its neck writhed;
Twisting, it muscled and tussled,
Perhaps searching for a ledge and height
On the Camel’s bank
With keen, blue-ringed dark eyes.
Maybe realising its difficult plight,
It continued to scramble and rise:
Desperate, disconsolate but hardly consummate…
Pete Ray
October 2017
Stranded on the edges of the River Camel estuary, Padstow, there was a young gannet, totally out of its comfort zone.
Perhaps it had mistakenly flown inland and its efforts had tired out this disoriented bird.
I would like to think that once it had regained its strength, it might have flown back out to sea…
It was not frightened by my close presence…
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