#WordsOftheWild

 The Scottish Wildlife Trust are doing a writing competition where you can write a short story, poem, song lyrics or other creative piece of writing relating to the native wildlife of Scotland. I decided to enter into the Junior section with a short description of a Scottish moor at dawn. While it isn't my absolute best piece of work, it has plenty of descriptions of the setting and some fancy adjectives which make it fairly decent. 

My entry

Over the moor as the vernal mist from the dawn turns to mizzle, the mountain hares bound and fleet. Disturbed from their grazing on heather and sedges, they zig-zag through the moor to the heath towards their serene shelters in the shallow forms. A mother and father lead their leverets to shelter, ushering them into the forms as the early bucolic sun kisses the moorland.  

A shepherd emerges over a hill, herding his sheep onto the verdant moor. The docile lambs are led to patches of lush vegetation by the ewes. As the flock ruminates, the shepherd observantly monitors them. He sets himself down on a stump, taking a moment to rest and to eat. The grouses whirr and whistle, crossbills chirp and sing out into the placid stretch of the moor.

In the loch, a romp of otters slide down the river banks and feed on the perch and pikes. Herons wade through the diaphanous water, hunting for fish and squawking. A symphony of nature's instruments bridge together like the verses of a song, creating a healing balm. The screams of the sliding otters creates a cacophony of noise, but it is soon drowned out by the dancing of the wind in the willow trees and the swishing of its branches. The dendrites of the willow reach over the loch's water like a viridescent blanket. 

As the shepherd leaves the moor and the sheep baa and bleat, the mizzle dies down and the mist returns to envelope the expanse of the moor. Once the disturbance of noise fades and the light shower vanishes, the hares return to the heath to graze on the heather, the delicate and dense flowers sway gently in the soothing spring breeze. The leverets squeak and bound as they nibble on the grass.

The matutinal sun ascends in the sky, bathing the moor in a tepid and tender glow and the creatures begin to amble along the moor.

I wasn't sure what to name it so i settled on quite a basic name, 'the moor at dawn'. It took me some time and the use of a thesaurus to settle on some nice adjectives. I'm quite proud of it though!

The competition closes at midnight on 31st of August 2024, which as i'm writing this, will be tomorrow.