One Sat, One Circled…
(Fulmars at Mousehole, Cornwall…)
One sat relaxed upon the nest, built comfortably across a wide ledge
Above the rocky shore, west of Mousehole’s busy, historic quay.
Bothered only by raucous crows, doubtless deterred by the oily, vile-smelling spit
Emitted by fulmars at intruders, the petrels spend the non-breeding period out at sea.
Finding it difficult to stand or walk, one of the pair began to circle
The outcrops of rock from whence I watched the incubating parent lie.
Its tubular beak resembled a crooked blade as it scouted like a Spitfire at war
And there was a stark and oily warning in its dark, satanic eye…
Pete Ray…
14th June 2026…
A brilliant pair of fulmars near Mousehole’s harbour…
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