Take it from me, the things you can see
The wonders your eyes will behold
Mother Nature did good in this neighbourhood
It’s a landscape of riches untold

The lochs and the glens, the Munros and Bens
They are stunning you can’t disagree
Rivers Clyde and the Tay and the Forth and the Spey
The Findhorn, the Don and the Dee

All kinds of rocks, have been turned into brochs
Into castles and bothies and cairns
If I had a say I would choose Skara Brea
As a great place to show your wee bairns

From clear waters great *****, great meat from the coos
That both share the rich fertile fields
So too the deer, with venison premiere
And the sheep produce great woollen yields

The fishing’s fantastic, there’s salmon (Atlantic)
Grayling and pike and big charr
I’ve so little doubt there’s superior trout
That I’ll not tell you quite where they are

We think thistles divine and we like the scots pine
The heather is gorgeous in flower
There’s gorse on the ground. Scottish bluebells around
It’s what young haggis prefer to devour

We have eagles and kites and owls through the night
Ptarmigan.  The grouse are widespread
If you don’t fancy that, there’s a breed of wild cat
And lots of our squirrels are red

Both at midnight and noon it’s like Brigadoon
The landscape is magic caressed
Every plant, every hill is possessed of good will
And the nice beasty that lives in Loch Ness

I could tell you more, but I’d just make you snore
But believe me that’s far from it all
If you’re still full of doubt come quick, don’t lose out
‘Cause we might rebuild Hadrian’s Wall

By the Findhorn river where no man is standing,
Theres a white post of a station, called Heron.

We watch the jumpy water, iced up at the edges
Its flow caught in cold.

Heron in stealth and I in peace for a while.
On different banks, and I am a hunter of sorts.

We see a mammal movement,
An otter. Athlete and champion.
We surrender to its wild catching.
It's thrash ends our hunt.

Heron flies to my bank.
We shift to audience,
These small moments
A wordless solution to trouble.

It's a place and a moment
It's where I saw an otter
After I had swum in the shallows
Of the Findhorn river
Knees knocking the rocks.

I take you there
Tell you of the moment.
We quieten and wander apart.
You would have swum in deeper waters
You say.
We come together, drinking tea.
You talk of The river
Being sured up and undercut.

On the grass bank
2 puffball mushrooms
White against green.
One each.
With reverence you cut them .
And pull jet black coiled worms
From holes in their flanks.
They are like brains I say.

We walk through a meadow.
You throw your bike to the ground
As if your feet already know where to go.
I struggle with my bike for a while
And then I copy you.
We stand and look at a wire fence
Some grasses
We wonder if they really look like that.
Or is it consensual reality.
So we can feel sured up.
Not undercut.

In your garden, later
You stand like a love
Salute.
Meeting my eyes.
I know what it is to be seen.
I trust you beyond measure.